Precipice
by Zia Montrose
Summary: James Potter well remembers the telling off he received from Lily Evans during OWLs. A year later, a different incident casts him and his friends in a nobler light.
1. Chapter 1

**1: A Saturday Morning Lie-In**

James sensed the projectile sailing towards him and blinked his eyes open. A pink bean landed with a sharp _thwack_ against his pillow, barely missing his head. His gaze shot right as he scanned the room for a culprit.

Sirius, clad in flannel pajamas, was lounging on his four-poster bed with the hangings partially open; one hand remained poised in mid air; the other clutched a box of Bertie Bott's.

"About time you woke up," he said, a bold grin etching his face. His overlong fringe tumbled carelessly over his forehead and a few motorbike magazines he'd picked up in London over a previous holiday littered his bed.

"About time _you_ start hitting your targets," retorted James as he indulgently stretched and yawned away a good night's sleep with balled fists. "Besides, those are _my_ beans."

Sirius grinned and popped another one in.

James shifted his head on his pillow to hide his smirk. He felt far too satisfactorily warm and rumpled beneath his covers to scuffle for the sweets. Besides, he'd share anything with that dog, truth be told.

"I'll buy you another box," Sirius consoled, rattling the carton to coax out another bean.

_I hope it's tripe flavored_, James mused as he lay on his side, eyes open, lazily gazing at a shaft of bright sunlight. It streamed into the room from the dorm window, illuminating swirling dust in its path before setting a mullion-patterned rectangle aglow on the worn floorboards below.

"What time is it?" James asked, reaching back to the nightstand, his fingers groping for his grandfather's old planispheric watch.

Sirius glanced at his wrist. "Ten-thirty."

"_Thaaat_ late? James flailed up onto his elbows and checked the two beds on the other side of the room. Between the split in the hangings, he could make out Remus's scattered coverlet. "Where are those two?"

"Went down to breakfast over an hour ago," Sirius shrugged, flipping through a magazine.

"They left us behind on a_ Saturday_?" puzzled James.

"Surprised me too," said Sirius, closing the glossy magazine and pausing. "I think Moony might be trying to get a head start on exam studies this weekend."

James pushed aside his usual chagrin over Moony's pursuit of perfect marks to prove himself. "How long have you been awake?" he asked.

Sirius released a slow budding grin. "Long enough to decide I'm definitely getting a bike this summer. S'been long enough."

James whole-heartedly agreed. Fortunately, they'd finally solved the dilemma of 'How and Where in Godric's Hollow will we store the thing?' And Sirius had a bit of gold now.

Sirius rose from his bed, grabbing the nearby blankets and wrapping them around himself like a cape as he went. Their tails scattered the magazines as they swept regally from bed to floor. At the tower window, he stopped and gazed out wordlessly.

"Moony still convinced he needs better marks?" James asked.

Sirius nodded without breaking gaze.

"Wish he'd let us help a bit more, then," James frowned. "S'not like _we_ miss class every month."

In lieu of the expected agreement, silence ensued. James glanced over to where his friend stood at the window.

Sirius's dark features had become motionless except for his eyes. Even the crescent-shaped laugh line to the side of his lips lay smooth. No doubt Mrs. Potter would kindly offer him a hair trimming when they next arrived home, but for now, his shaggy fringe cascaded toward the bridge of his nose. Underneath, grey eyes scanned the landscape casually yet keenly.

James pushed back the covers and swung his pajama-clad legs over the edge of the bed. The cool air prickled against his toes. He set his bare feet down on the wooden floor, tucked his hands under his armpits in defiance of the sudden draft, and joined his friend at the pane. A few seconds of comfortable silence ensued as they scanned the grounds together.

"S'nice out," pronounced James.

Sirius nodded. "I could _use_ some sun for a change."

The weather had been terrible of late: It had rained nearly every day for two weeks— and even on clear days, squelching walks to the greenhouse had rung with the girls' complaints of muddy shoes. Finally, the sun had forced arrival in Northern Scotland again.

"Looks like a good flying day," observed James, as he glanced toward the canopy of leaves to estimate the wind.

On the other side of the glass, daredevil swallows darted under the eaves on the way to their spackled mud nests. In the background, the Giant Squid, seldom seen during the cold months, flailed an arm lazily above the surface of the lake. It, too, appeared to be enjoying the improvement in the weather. James placed his hand on the pane and felt warmth ooze into his skin.

"Quite a lotta people out swimming already," Sirius remarked, pointing.

James reached for his glasses, threaded them on, and leaned in for a better look. His expression wrinkled as he focused on the lake, where colorful dots punctuated the surface. "Is that— ?"

Sirius directed his view along with James's and studied the swimmers.

"Gryff girls, I think," he pronounced.

_Gryffindor girls... Swimming… _A flash of spring fever flared in James's chest.

Sirius's shaggy fringe touched the pane as he leaned closer in observance. "Let's see… that looks like Bonnie…maybe Florence... that's definitely Evans. Yup, I'd say that's them."

"Think I'd rather swim than fly today," ventured James, false-casually. "You?"

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sirius's face. "Sure, I could do with a little Fanged Frisbee now that you've finally woken up."

Sirius turned and headed toward his trunk wearing the same mickey-taking tinge of amusement, while James remained standing at the pane a moment longer, quietly surveying the scene, until spurred by the the realization that he, too, must locate long-forgotten items such as swim trunks, towel, and Fanged Frisbee.

"Wanna round up Moony and Wormtail on the way?" James asked, taking one last look at the sunny scenery and deciding it would be high treason not to include their friends. He veered toward his bedside table and slid open a drawer.

"Yeah. You checking the map?" Sirius asked, glancing up.

James slipped out a well-worn, eggshell-colored parchment, unfolded it, and before looking elsewhere, scanned the dots in the vicinity of the lake. His eyes slid loosely over several before settling on the exact one he was looking for:

'_Lily Evans.'_

A stroke of wist flickered through his chest as his gaze lingered on it. If only it were as simple as reaching out for the tracking dot...

But it wasn't.

And it had got a whole lot harder ever since she'd told him off a year ago.

Pushing back pangs, he switched view to the library on the fourth floor and located his two friends: 'Remus Lupin' and 'Peter Pettigrew', seated on opposite sides of a wooden four-person table.

"They're in the libraaary!" he wailed.

"Not for long," Sirius sang back cheerfully.

James vaguely noted a dot labeled 'Madam Pince' before folding the map back up. Inwardly, he shuddered. That was no way to spend a Saturday—within a hundred yards of that hideous vulture—exams or no exams.

"We need to swing by the kitchens at some point. I'm _starving_," said Sirius, kneeling on the bare floorboards as he pawed through his belongings in his trunk, previously embellished with the Black Family Crest until he'd recently succeeded in vanishing it.

"Me too," agreed James. He rounded the foot of his bed, flipped open the lid of his own trunk, and began to unload a pile of items onto the floor: spell books, a spare pheasant feather quill, his liquidy silver Invisibility Cloak, a dog-eared astronomy chart, a stash of Butterbeers for their next dorm meeting, a coconut, and—_aha_—trunks! Now all he needed was…

He pawed in vain until he reached the bottom of his trunk.

"Wait—did some tealeaf steal my Frisbee?"

"No, pillock. Filch confiscated it, remember? When you tossed it up the staircase and it took down the whole lot of Christmas garland."

"Oh…right." James broke into a grin of remembrance. "Not like it was hard to put back up."

"Well, for Filch it probably was," Sirius countered.

"True… We'll borrow Wormtail's for now. He won't mind."

Moments later, the two Gryffindor boys loped down the hall side by side, feet squeaking in Filch's fresh polish, swim towels hanging round their necks.

"We probably won't even need our own Frisbee," James ventured optimistically.

"We will if the girls pack up before we get out there. Or don't let us play…"

"Mmm, I guess so." James had to admit, to himself at least, the idea of playing with the girls far surpassed the four of them playing by themselves. It would be the perfect excuse to talk to her.

"Speaking of swimming, wonder if your dear mum ever succeeded in taking down any of the posters in your old room?" An expression of purest relish slipped onto James's face as he pictured the trio of bikini-clad girls—a blond, brunette, and a redhead—which Sirius had picked out at a Muggle record and poster shop two summers ago—and a stony old Walburga confronting them.

Sirius cracked a smile. "I think it's as likely that Regulus goes in and lusts over them when no one's looking, the elitist little punk. I told you, Prongs, I used a _very good_ Permanent Sticking Charm." He paused as though playing out a satisfying memory of it before switching topic. "So y'think your Frisbee's locked in Filch's office? Or y'think he makes an annual bonfire with all his confiscated items?"

"No, it's still there," James shook his head blithely. "If anything, he's probably baited the shackles with it."

Filch kept a set chained up over his janitorial desk like a positive coat of arms; James had seen them when reporting for detention. "He's probably clamped one of the cuffs around it…Y'know, like the hair trigger of an anti-theft device."

Sirius snorted. "Believe me, I know about anti-theft devices…Wonder how much stuff he's got in there…"

At the end of the corridor, they reached the top of The Great Staircase and began trotting down it stride for stride. At the start of the second flight, Sirius hopped up onto the impeccably polished marble railing and slid down by his seat, the smooth fabric of his trunks squealing as he went. He hopped off just before reaching the next volute and waited on the landing for James to catch up.

"Nice one," said James, trotting the last three steps, "Watch this—"

Without breaking stride, he hopped up onto the third railing and began sliding down. Tucking his feet up just so, he gained critical speed and, as he approached the next landing, he scooted off and sailed through the air in a moment of fleeting glory before his feet planted with a satisfying smack against the flat landing; an echo reverberated through the chamber.

"Show off," Sirius grinned, catching up.

"The perfect dismount has a particular ring to it," James replied, eyes twinkling, his chin rising an inch as he gave his trunks a cooling pat.

"Let's just hope no one heard that." Sirius glanced around surreptitiously for signs of Filch.

They trotted innocently down the last flight of stairs and stepped off at the fourth floor.

The wooden double doors of the library stood open on the left. Judging by the glow emanating from inside, the day's bright sunlight had already begun flooding through the multi-story stained glass windows of the massive eastern facade. The tantalizing mid-day sun was, in James opinion, as good a reason as any to leave studies until nighttime—and preferably after Quidditch practice, the rigors of which always helped him resign himself to a long night of studying in a hard wooden chair.

The two boys stuck their heads though the doorway, but left their bodies in the hall out of cautious habit. A careful look both ways revealed no sign of Madam Pince, though one could never be too sure.

A few dozen or so fifth years studying for O.W.L.'s scattered the wooden seats of the cavernous hall. James threw a glance toward the table at which he'd earlier spotted his friends on the map: The sun poured down onto Moony's sandy hair as, head in hand, he stared down at his book, occasionally jotting notes on the roll of parchment at his elbow. Across the table, Peter lolled sideways while reading, looking as though he might doze off mid-sentence. James pointed them out.

The crease to the side of Sirius's lips quirked upwards as he slipped out his wand. "I'll take Wormtail if you want Moony," he said, leaning against the doorframe like a casual sniper.

He silently took aim at Peter's chair and set it vibrating for a split second. Wormtail sat bolt upright, clutched both edges of the wooden seat, and glanced suspiciously around the library—everywhere but towards the door. Meanwhile, Moony stared down at his book, not noticing.

James stifled a laugh. He flicked his own wand and lifted a lock of Moony's hair into the air like a beetle's antenna. Remus absently patted it back down while reading and broke into a small yawn.

Sirius sighed heavily. "They do make it a bit easy sometimes."

James stole a glance around the library for a sign of Pince, about to suggest that Sirius hover Peter, chair and all, into the air next.

_"Pssst!" _signaled Sirius, loudly enough that it sibilated across the library, thwarting James's plans.

Errant heads popped up in curiosity, including Peter's and Remus's. The foursome made eye contact. Recognition dawned brightly in Peter's watery eyes.

Sirius flicked his wrist in a Frisbee throwing motion and waggled his brows enticingly. James inclined his head toward the hall as if to say, 'Come on. Let's go!'

Remus nodded eagerly; Peter shut his book with a slam.

"Covert," commended Sirius, prompting James into a grin.

Remus and Peter hastened across the library, backpacks slung over their shoulders, backs slightly bent as they broke into a fast walk bordering on a jog past the vacant circulation desk. Finally, they emerged into the hall for the rendezvous.

"What's going o—?"

"We're going swimming. Get your trunks," blurted Sirius.

"Excellent," replied Remus. "I'd just about had enough of Golopatt's Antidotes for today," he quipped in a beleaguered tone, rubbing the side of his head as though to boost circulation.

"Me too," agreed Peter, sleepy-eyed.

"High marks for subtlety back there, Pete," said Sirius. James snuffled a laugh.

"What—?"

"Nevermind." Sirius waived a hand airily. "We snagged your Frisbee," he added, giving his back pocket a quick pat; it responded with an obstinate growl. "Hope you don't mind."

Remus shot a glance toward Sirius's hip.

"It was either that or try breaking into Filch's office to get mine back," James added offhandedly.

Peter responded with widened eyes and James couldn't help but appreciate how easily he bestowed appreciation for their petty misdeeds.

"Prongs and I need to grab some breakfast first," informed Sirius. "You?"

Remus shook his head 'no'.

"Meet you in the Entrance Hall in ten?" ventured James as they started walking.

The lot agreed and fifteen minutes later, the four boys exited the Great Oak doors together and trotted down the stairs, emerging into the bright sunlight of the Hogwarts grounds and the promise of an eventful day.


	2. Chapter 2

**2: Fanged Frisbee and Flying Things**

Four sets of swim trunks swished collectively as the boys strode across the sloping lawn in the bright sunlight. The windows of Gryffindor Tower winked familiarly overhead as they rounded the west side of the castle, with its many jutting turrets and battlements, to reach the lake on the south side. Finally, the last buttress gave way to a view of the surrounding landscape and a dazzling blue sky.

Here, the black basalt cliff, atop which the castle had been built, dropped sharply to the lake below, the roofs of Hogsmeade village peppered the valley beyond, and green mountains faded to a haze in the distance. As they neared the cliff, James gazed out over the water. The human triangle of Fanged Frisbee players he'd seen earlier from the tower dotted the gleaming surface. _She_ was still playing.

His footsteps slowed until Peter glanced back. "You coming, James?"

James didn't answer. He veered to the cliff's edge and let his gaze drop to the beckoning depths below: A breeze rippled the surface enticingly; the dark hue of the water suggested depth.

"Let's jump from here." He nodded toward the precipice. He'd decided it would be the quickest and the best way into the water. Why walk all the way around to the shallow end when they could jump? _Couldn't be more than sixty feet…?_

His three friends stopped.

"Er… I don't know if that's a good idea. There might be rocks below the surface." Remus's expression twisted.

"Nah, I've swum down there. It's deep at that spot," Sirius countered. James could see a familiar avid look spreading across his best friend's face.

A spring breeze swept through their midst, ruffling their hair as they swapped looks.

"Well, I have enough danger in my life already,"Remus shrugged. "And what's the point?" He shielded his eyes from the sun and stood glancing back at James, making an appeal to his better judgment.

James understood where Moony was coming from, but for him, this was a giveaway question._ 'What's the point?' _Well, it would be exhilarating; there was no Quidditch practice today; and wasn't it their job to test out all Hogwarts had to offer them while they were here?

While he silently enumerated the many good reasons with a sense of excitement rising in his chest, preparing to break it to Moony that he planned to jump anyway, Sirius stepped to the edge and let his gaze fall.

"Well, _I'm_ in," Sirius confirmed.

His grey eyes glimmered as they met James's. It was a look which suggested to James that he was in danger of losing first jump; once Sirius got an idea in his head, he quickly put it into action.

"No way, tosser—My idea—I'm first!" James warned waggishly, but there was only one way to secure it.

"Look, I'm going to head down to the other side," Remus informed, turning to go. Peter shrugged, blushed, and followed.

James and Sirius exchanged a loaded glance, and suddenly, as though a whistle had been blown, a race to undress broke out between them. James peeled his shirt over his head with vigor—_Blast!_—The corners of his glasses snagged his collar. He threw the troublesome frames carelessly onto the grass, unpocketed his wand and tossed it too, moving double-time to catch up. _Can't let Padfoot win!_ They cobbed elbows as they reached down to tug off their shoes without untying the laces—

—and jumped in unison.

"WOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The cliff streaked by in a blur. The rush of air tingled James's skin and pulled at the roots of his hair as he plummeted toward the lake. Instinctively, he tucked his legs underneath him in anticipation of the plunge. At last, his body blasted through the hard surface, the water rushing past every square inch of his skin, its coolness enveloping him on all sides.

As the water slowed him down, James stroked hard with cupped hands to propel himself back toward the beams of sunlight dancing on the surface. Rising… Rising… his head burst into the breezy air. He shook out his water-logged hair as Sirius, eyes gleaming with excitement, shot up next to him, giving a bark of approval and a toss of wet bangs.

"Great idea, Prongs."

James smiled. Sirius's good mood and the heady elixir of June spread through him like a warm medicine.

"I pity the fifth years who are suffering through studying for O.W.L.s right now," said Sirius as he flipped onto his back and floated.

_O.W.L.s: Ugh._ _Who could forget?_ Sitting exams on hot days at hard wooden desks; sprouting angry quill calluses on his thumb due to page after page of essay writing; waiting in endless lines for practical examinations by some old codger from the Ministry only to find out he'd studied more thoroughly than necessary—the requests had all been easy…

But worse than any of the academic rigors had been that severe telling off he'd received from Lily after the Defense Exam.

_'Messing up your hair…showing off with that stupid Snitch…I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.'_

Blimey… Was that what she really thought of him? He'd brooded over it more than he cared to admit, even after they'd stepped off the Hogwarts' Express for summer holidays.

Ironically, he'd only been trying to get her attention. Never an easy task. Half the blokes in school were interested in her. Where did that leave him?

He'd made an effort this year—a concerted effort—not to get her back up like that again, to lie low, and above all, to stop asking her out. At best, this new approach had yielded a few cordial interactions, even a congratulatory "Good game, James" after they'd won the Hufflepuff match. At worst, he'd watched her accept a date to Hogsmeade with someone else this winter.

At least it hadn't been _Snivellus_. He unwittingly recalled a memory of having seen the Slytherin in the library just yesterday, his hair desperately in need of a shampooing, his nose nearly thrust into the binding crack of _Gross Transmogrifications._

_Dark Magic. _He hated it.

Fortunately, Lily had changed her opinion where Severus was concerned and James no longer had to suffer the indignity of watching him prance around at Lily's side, all the while hiding his darker habits.

And James had tried dating other girls, but they never held half the allure of Lily... If only she'd give him a fair shot. He glanced back toward the triangle of players with a renewed sense of longing.

"Want to head over and play?" he questioned Sirius, who remained casually afloat next to him.

"Frisbee? With the girls?" Sirius swiveled his head to look at James.

"Yeah."

"You don't want to jump again?" Sirius's tone struck a note of disbelief. He bobbed up and shook out his hair. Droplets sprayed back into the lake.

"Hmmm, maybe later…"

Sirius studied him, grey eyes piercing. Just when James thought he might respond with a brisk, 'Suit yourself, mate', he said, "Why don't _you _head over? I'll just take one more jump."

James considered. Sticking with Sirius and taking another jump had its allure, too…

"You want the Frisbee, then?" Sirius asked.

"Ruins my chances of getting invited, doesn't it?" James flashed a frown.

"What about when Moony and Wormtail make it around? You'll be six. With one Frisbee."

James shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "Fanged Frisbee's better with more people if you ask me. Changes up the pass order."

"Good point." Sirius glanced toward the game, then back at the cliff.

"You mind jumping alone?"

"It'll be your loss, not mine." Sirius grinned slyly.

James returned it. "I'll make up for it this summer. Extra flying." He could always count on trumping Sirius at Quidditch, if nothing else.

"All right, then. See ya, Prongs." Sirius flipped onto his back again before tossing out a casual, "Good luck."

Leaving Sirius behind, James swam out alone towards the Gryffindor girls. The cool water of the lake washed against his skin and heightened his spirits as he swam, temporarily overpowering the usual rise in nerves which preceded an encounter with Lily. Ripples propagated out ahead of him like a herald.

With every other stroke, he caught sight of the magnificent stone castle looming in the background. Over in the reeds, Flying Juncus spun their long fronds in a propeller-like motion, hovering into the air and skimming back down into the water a few feet away.

_Plooop!_ James's arm dipped in for the next stroke.

Certainly Gryffindors comprised the majority of the swimmers today, James noted, as rigor warmed his working limbs. Off left, Kingsley and Grover dove for Plimpies to taunt. Davey Gudgeon waded in from the pebbly beach, splashing water back at an indignant yet laughing Mary MacDonald.

Beyond the beach was another popular spot from which to wade in, recognizable by the gnarled roots of two trees which stood like sentinels at the water's edge; the eroded ground between them had been worn smooth by so many years of passing feet. No sign of Moony or Peter yet.

James glanced ahead: The three girls—Lily, Bonnie, and Florence—were standing in a triangle at various depths and distances from shore. Lily was the closest to James. Her back faced him, a circumstance which felt dolefully familiar, and, as he drew closer, he took in her pale shoulders poking through the surface of the water. Strands of wet hair trailed down her back…

His casual outlook vanished.

_How exactly __am__ I going to invite myself to join their game? 'Hey Evans, I saw you out my dorm window and wanted a chance to talk to you before summer holidays…'_

And why hadn't Sirius convinced him otherwise? Just then, Bonnie waved hello from a distance. Florence took notice of him. And Lily glanced briefly over her shoulder before turning back to the game. Florence shot the next pass to Lily: The Frisbee whistled through the air… Splashing left, she leapt deftly toward it, caught it at arm's length, and flicked it back across the lake.

"Nice catch, Evans."

She half-pivoted at the sound of his voice.

"Hi Potter," she replied, kindly enough, but with a trace of wariness. She glanced behind her to check on the game again—the Frisbee was now sailing from Florence to Bonnie—before facing him.

Her shoulders squared off lightly with his. Her chest was submersed below the water level (and he felt strangely thankful for that), but he noticed she'd tucked her wand under the elastic at the top of her teal green swim costume. Her hair, deepened in color by the dampness to a reddish-bronze, had been threaded behind her ears; the ends scattered across her shoulders; and sunbeams dazzling off the surface of the lake created Floo fire flames in her bright green eyes.

"Can I play?" he asked, adopting a friendly tone in spite of his nerves.

A noticeable second ticked by before she answered.

"Aren't your friends around?" She cast a glance westward toward where Remus and Peter now walked the shore.

Merlin, why did she have to put him off like that?

He threw a cursory glance toward the shore to fulfill his answer and caught sight of a flash of clothing between trees. "No… Remus and Peter will be a while. And Sirius is—", he glanced back over his shoulder, "—taking another jump."

Lily surveyed the cliff, her arms feathering lightly beneath the water.

Was it fun?" she asked with a hint of reservation in her voice.

James searched her expression, but he didn't get very far before her gaze flickered behind her to check on the game, as if afraid to miss a pass, and then back on him.

"About as much fun as riding the rail carts at Gringott's," he ventured, thinking it a good answer.

Her expression remained impassive.

At the same time as he realized he'd stuffed his answer—Lily didn't likely have a Gringott's vault, being Muggleborn—he noticed a fast-approaching fanged Frisbee in the background.

"Heads up!" he warned, pulling a hand out of the water and pointing past her head.

The water gave a small 'plurp' as she managed to catch it deftly in two clapped hands, avoiding the rim of gnashing teeth, and sent it back over toward Bonnie.

"Nice reflexes," he commended as she spun back around to face him. Her eyes seemed to widen in surprise.

"So, can I play?" he pressed hopefully.

"Are you any good?" she asked, quirking up one brow.

A smile slipped onto his face. "It's just Fanged Frisbee," he shrugged jocularly, enjoying the sudden repartee.

The corners of her mouth flattened into an expression of dismay. "I thought you'd say something like that."

_What the Snidget? _"You _asked_. What did you want me to say?"

"Nevermind," she dismissed, and after another second of consideration in which she eyed him, she added evenly, "You can play between Bonnie and Florence."

Bonnie McDermott, a fellow Gryffindor with ginger-brown, coil-sprung hair, greeted him warmly as he took position between her and Florence Fortescue.

"Hi James," she sang.

James returned an affable smile as he spun around to face the game.

As soon as he did so, a pass came sailing his way from Lily. Despite its unexpectedness, and everything looking a little blurry without his glasses, he caught it in one hand and lobbed it off to Florence. Then he glanced toward shore to check on Remus and Peter.

They'd arrived at the boat launching beach, but they weren't alone. Three girls James recognized as Ravenclaws had joined them on the walk; two were flanking and conversing with Moony as he toed toward the water's edge; the third appeared to be removing her sandals in Peter's vicinity. The girl next to Moony flicked her wand and a wooden rowboat whisked from its stowed location on the bank over to the water in front of them.

A whistle of air pulled James's attention back to the game. Just in time. A wobbly pass from Bonnie nearly collided with the side of his head before he had fully turned back around, but he managed to simultaneously duck and thrust a hand into the air to snatch it—but not without its teeth sinking in. Quietly, he winced.

With arrow straightness, he flicked it to Lily, who passed it back to Bonnie.

"I'm getting cold," Bonnie pronounced with a shiver after making the catch and exhaling audibly. "I'm going to swim over and play from that rock," she said, pointing to a black boulder which pierced the surface forty feet further out, a popular spot from which to dive. It looked invitingly sunny and warm, like a good spot for a midday kip.

He twisted around to check on his friends. Moony had waded part way in, shucked off his shirt, and tossed it to shore. He was about to proceed deeper when James heard the _whoosh_ of water signaling Sirius's second jump.

Below the cliff, a white geyser shot up, and a second later, Sirius's head bobbed to the surface. He shook out his hair just as he'd done before, and James, without regretting his choice, felt a small pang of envy.

"SCRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

_What was THAT?_ It resounded off cliff and water…

James's eyes scanned the air for the source of the piercing cry—a strangely familiar sound—but where had he heard it before? He caught sight of a bolt of silvery-grey darting out from the face of the cliff…

It spread its wings and swooped above the lake at breakneck speed: _A_ _falcon!_

Sirius must have disturbed it while making his second jump.

After spiraling once, the great speckled bird initiated a spectacular stoop toward the surface of the lake, its tail, wings, and feet folding back as it gained speed… It bombed directly toward Sirius, who—at the last moment—plunged underwater to evade it…

Outstretching its talons and redeploying its wings, it grazed the surface before soaring skyward again. Then it rose once more to the height of its arc—James watched it, half awestruck, half alarmed—recognizing this as a possible setup for another dive...

But it maintained its altitude.

On shore, Kingsley and Grover craned their necks skyward to watch from underneath a small canopy of trees. James was about to breath a sigh of relief when it glided over their Frisbee game and let out another raucous cry. A flash of movement at the surface of the lake caught his eye—

_Lily!_

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up… Bonnie gasped.

The falcon dove. Lily's shoulders tensed, and she shrieked, but she raised her wand and out shot a flash of grey: Five or six small birds darted from the tip like the sparks in a fireworks display… Then she, too, plunged, just as Sirius had done, and the peregrine gave chase to the swallows.

_Birds of prey hunt smaller birds. Smart, Evans._

James let out his breath, relieved to see it moving away from Lily, and watched the pursuit. The angry falcon struck out with its heel talons as the swallows zipped frantically past. In a trio, they soared higher, reversed direction, and then sped south. As the first one shot past, James heard its wings slice the air overhead. Then, he tensed as the peregrine, too, advanced in his direction.

He surveyed his surroundings, caught sight of Bonnie plunging off the rock, and started swimming to meet her. Within a few strokes, he'd reached her side.

"All right?" he asked, quickly.

A sudden flash in his side vision revealed the bird swooping toward them faster than a rogue Bludger.

_"Quick!"_ Without thinking, he slung an arm around Bonnie's neck and pulled her underwater before she'd sealed her mouth shut. They jostled limbs in the underwater turbulence before surfacing together seconds later.

Bonnie's inelastic coilsprings drooped in her eyes and she choked violently on a swallow of water.

"Sorry—," he breathed, offering his arm for her to tread water on while she continued gasping. "Didn't mean to drown you. Y'all right…?"

Bonnie ceased spluttering long enough to nod affirmatively.

James's gaze flitted back up into the air as they spoke, trying to relocate the bird…

Another "SCREEEEEEEEE" placed it near shore—angrily wheeling over the three Ravenclaw girls.

One minute he was looking up at its snowy underbelly…

The next, its salt and pepper wings were foiling in descent again…

A round of bloodcurdling screams rang out. The two Ravenclaw girls closest to the boat shrank under the contour of the gunwale. Remus yelled _"WATCH OUT!",_ flipped the boat on top of them, and dove underneath it into the airspace.

Its heel talons all but struck the underside of the rowboat as though snatching a giant fish. Then, beating its wings, it rose halfway to the height of the trees before spotting Peter and the Ravenclaw girl on shore. Peter cowered, looking stricken and terrified.

_C'mon, Wormtail_… James's chest filled with a sense of foreboding..._ Do something._

The bird rushed its target…

Peter panicked, thrust his wand skyward and fired off a spell. Green sparks shot into the air…

"NOOO!" James shouted, but it was too late. The bird let out a jarring cry and ricocheted away from the jet of light… It mustered two last flaps of its wings in an attempt to reclaim flight… and hopelessly plummeted. James watched its feathered body cartwheel earthward until it crashed into a clump of tall spiky sedges around the bend. A dart punctured his chest. He smacked palm to forehead and heaved a sigh.

Moony peered out from under the rowboat, tilting it to rights when he saw the coast was clear.

"C'mon, let's get to shore," James breathed dejectedly to Bonnie. They'd taken no more than ten strokes before he'd pulled significantly ahead of her. He stopped and treaded water while she caught up.

"All right?" he asked as she swam up beside him. Apples of color dotted her cheeks, matching the undertones of her hair.

"Yeah… I'm just tired," she admitted. "And I dropped my wand," she added ruefully.

James tilted his gaze down into the lake. The sun's reflection had turned the surface of the water into a grey-blue mirror, preventing him from seeing the bottom and gauging its depth. How deep could it be, though? They were relatively close to shore.

"I'm not sure I can dive that far. Can_ you_ get it?" she asked hopefully.

James threw a glance over his shoulder. Moony and the two girls were wading onto the beach, their soaked clothes clinging to their shoulders and hips. He, too, was eager to get to shore. "Sure. You want to wait on the rock?"

Bonnie nodded.

"Where exactly were you when you dropped it?"

"Right around there." Bonnie pointed five feet further back, but she didn't sound very certain.

Just north of them, James noticed Florence wading to shore with Lily trailing closely behind, heading for the sentinel trees. He inhaled a breath and ducked underwater.

Ten feet down, he scrabbled a hand blindly through the muddy reeds as bubbles escaped his nose and lips. His brain had just registered the thoughts, _this is impossible… needle in a haystack…_and _much better to just Accio it from shore_, when his hand latched onto something spindly. Upon rising to the surface, he blinked his watery eyes open to see an unfamiliar wand clutched in his wet fingers.

He swam up to the rock where Bonnie was waiting, arms wrapped around her knees to keep warm. "I take it there are no regularly scheduled swim sessions at McDermott's Magical Farm?" he smirked, producing the wand and holding it out to her.

"Ha, lots of chores, more like," Bonnie snorted. She smiled as she accepted it. "Thanks, James."

"Well, we only have a hundred yards to go… Or better yet—" James glanced shoreward, noticing that Sirius had managed the long swim over while he'd been diving for the wand and was now crunching up onto the beach. "HEY, MOONY!" Remus looked up. "SEND US A BOAT!"

When they reached the shore, Lily met them at the water's edge, a crease between her brows. "Are you all right?" she asked, taking Bonnie's hands and helping her up the beach.

"Well, Potter nearly drowned me," Bonnie quipped with a collusive glance and half a smile back at James as they tromped onto shore, "but I'm fine now."

Lily flicked her wand into the air and conjured a fluffy, striped beach towel identical to the one she wore wrapped around herself and handed it to Bonnie. After she'd helped her friend to wrap it over her shoulders, she conjured a second one and handed it to James, their eyes connecting briefly.

"Thanks," he said.

Once he and Bonnie had toweled off, they rejoined the rest of the group standing in a sodden throng in the middle of the beach. Everyone began talking at once, swapping stories and taking stock of scrapes and bruises. Remus sported a cut on his foot from a sharp rock or a freshwater mollusk shell; meanwhile, Peter still looked shaken and he'd somehow accumulated bramble scratches on his calves just on the walk over. His eyes dwelled on the ground, failing to meet his mates'.

"That doesn't look so good, Moony," pronounced Sirius, lifting Remus's foot to examine it as though it were a dog's hind paw. The girls gathered around for a better look. A bright bead of blood welled atop the cut. Florence sucked in a breath. The shortest Ravenclaw girl bit her lip. Lily set a gentle hand on Remus's shoulder and craned her neck to see.

_He's seen worse_, thought James grimly. _Though a bit of sympathy can't hurt, for a change…_

"I'll take him up to Pomfrey," offered Sirius. "It'll be faster if we go by boat—through the cliff. Besides, that way you won't have to walk on it so much." He turned to Peter and added, "Pete, you should come too. Those scratches might swell up if left untreated."

"We're heading back, too," announced the tallest Ravenclaw girl with long, black hair, and she glanced at her friends in solidarity; they nodded unequivocally, and looked around for a boat.

"I think Bonnie should get a dose of Pepper-Up," suggested Lily, and James nodded agreement, noticing she was still shivering underneath her towel.

"I can take her," offered Florence, clasping Bonnie's hand and giving it a small, cheerful swing along with a smile.

"Why don't we all go?" suggested Lily.

James turned to look off left, first at the bend, then at the cliff with a faraway look in his eyes. "Sirius, when you're done, I think we should have a closer look at that cliff."

Several of his companions cast quizzical looks amongst themselves, but Sirius met his gaze directly. Lily and Remus looked on with interest.

"Why?" asked Remus.

James scratched his head. "I think that falcon was guarding a nest. That's my theory as to why it got so angry. Now that it's… dead," he said, the words ringing with remote melancholy as he spoke them, "there might be fledglings left behind."

"You mean chicks?" asked Florence.

James gave a solemn nod.

"What if there's another falcon in the nest?" Florence challenged.

"Nah, it would have flown out," said Sirius. "James is right."

"Sounds…dangerous," said Bonnie. She and Florence wore matching looks of apprehension.

James shrugged. The danger—if there was any—didn't concern him. After all, he and Sirius had already jumped into the lake from the cliff's high point. The worst that could happen was that they'd fall into the water again while scrambling around on their search.

"We can't just leave them to die," asserted Sirius, who threw a fiducial glance at James, as good as a promise he'd return to help.

Suddenly, Lily's voice interrupted. "_I _can help," she piped in, turning to face James.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: A Partnership**

"Accio shirts!" said Sirius, flicking Moony's loaned wand in the direction where he and James had earlier raced to undress.

"Can I borrow that?" asked James, reaching for the wand.

"I've got yours already," replied Sirius, and with an articulation of his wrist, an airborne shirt finished zooming across the lake and flapped into James's chest. A pair of glasses also appeared in midair, and James reached up to grab them. Meanwhile, the girls were busy snatching shorts and shirts of paler colors—lavender, pink, white, tan—out of a pile on the beach.

James toweled off and employed a quick Drying Charm on his hair before slipping his shirt over his head. He wriggled his head through the neck hole, threaded his arms out the sleeves, and caught Sirius's eye again.

"I'll come back out as soon as I'm through," vowed Sirius, and his words were accompanied by a steady grey gaze.

James gave a nod, then glanced expectantly toward Lily, who was now fastening the last few buttons of a summery white blouse over her newly-dry swimming costume, her fingers slipping the pearly white buttons through the buttonholes, their iridescence shining in the sun. She glanced up at James after working the last one.

"Ready?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that both Florence and Bonnie were watching the exchange.

Lily nodded and they set off together while the others loaded into the boats to head toward the infirmary. Side by side, they crunched up the sloping beach, leaving their friends' chatter and the clunking of rowboats behind them. Where the beach met the single-file path, James eased back a step to let Lily lead the way.

They proceeded in silence at first. Her gait seemed easy and natural as he watched her walk in front of him: She stepped lightly over the encroaching roots, her shoulders swaying and her wheat-colored, slightly spiral wand in her right hand.

Her ease seemed to contrast with the way he felt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone with her. Moony was the lucky dog who got to spend time with her every week, strolling the castle on prefect rounds, not him. How many times had he wondered what that must be like?

He glanced ahead and searched for something to say before the mood could slip from casual to awkward. Though they'd been housemates for six years, his normally agile brain failed to produce a ready topic of conversation…

"Should we head towards the old stone wall?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Near where it meets the edge of the forest?"

"Right, that's where I saw it fall."

Another moment of silence passed before James spoke again. Fortunately, here the path widened into a flat bank flanked with primrose bushes, allowing them to walk abreast.

"That was a brilliant spell you used back there," he ventured, glancing at her. When the sentence seemed to hang, he added, "I just wish Peter wouldn't have—" He searched for the right words. 'Bludgered the thing,' seemed like an accurate phrasing, but he checked himself before uttering it. He didn't want to sound… arrogant.

"I think Peter tried his best," interjected Lily with a firm glance over at him. He shifted his lips. "After all, he was stuck in the shallows with nowhere to go," she added.

_Yeah, stuck in the shallows with a perfectly good __wand__ at his disposal…_

"Remus figured something out," he mumbled.

"Remus had waded further in already," she returned.

James didn't reply. He didn't like the turn the conversation was taking already. And he disagreed.

_Was_ _it really too much to ask for Wormtail to account for an object's mass before wielding a Stunner at it?_ _We're sixth years, after all. He may not have killed it on purpose but he killed it with ineptitude._

"What would _you_ have done?" Lily prodded, as though sensing his disapproval.

"Set a Shield Charm… run for the trees… fired off a few owl pellets to deter it… _anything," _he rattled off.

Lily flashed him a look. "Well, it's not fair to expect Peter to be as good at everything as—" She broke off quite abruptly and changed sentences. "Why do you hang 'round with him if you despise him so much?"

"What? I don't despise him! I _like _Peter," James yelped.

"What do you like about him?" Lily pressed, slowing to a stop and pivoting to face him. Her eyes narrowed. "That he _worships_ you?"

She crossed her arms loosely over her chest and waited for his answer as they stood a few feet apart from each other on the pebbles and dry grass.

James frowned at her last words.

"No... He amuses me," he said simply with a shrug. _What does she want me to say? I'm a bloke—and blokes don't recite elaborate sonnets about why they like their friends._

_But sometimes you don't treat him like a friend, _his subconscious niggled.

_Well, he does make himself into a walking bull's-eye sometimes..._

"You mean you find him _endearing_?" Lily coaxed, still eyeing him.

"Yeah, that's the word." His insides squirmed.

Lily blinked back at him. He found it hard not to notice her startling eye color, even though she was angry with him.

_She thinks you're a complete prat. There's no changing that. You might as well stop now._

"And he's loyal," ventured James. "And he_ can_ be clever, when he sets his mind to it… Look, I spent a long time helping Peter with certain things last year, and I wouldn't have bothered if I didn't like him." He desperately hoped she wouldn't ask him to define 'certain things', which were actually 'certain _highly illegal_ things'; things which should be registered with the Ministry of Magic before even undertaking them.

Her eyes lingered on him a moment longer before deciding she'd heard enough. She unfolded her arms, glanced along the shore, and let out a small sigh.

He wanted to move on, move away from the conflict, work together harmoniously for once, but he wasn't sure how. Maybe it was hopeless.

"Can we just get this done already?" he ventured, throwing a glance toward the bend in the shore where he'd seen the bird land in a clump of tall grasses. "I wasn't planning on having an argument about Peter." _Or I would have waited for Sirius._

Lily didn't budge.

"I also wanted to say thanks for helping Bonnie," she said softly while bestowing on him a very direct gaze.

Inwardly, his heart skipped. Outwardly, he blinked.

"'Was nothing. Glad to help," he replied with a shrug, and for the first time that day, he didn't need to feign nonchalance; it was how he really felt about helping a friend.

Lily hadn't flinched. She remained standing in front of him, but her expression appeared newly softened, her shoulders more relaxed, and her wand hung down at her side. James noticed it again.

"What's your wand made of?" he asked with a conversational gesture toward it. Seemed innocuous enough… and he'd always wanted to know.

Her eyes traced his gesture. "Curly willow. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," he shrugged. "It's uncommon. Shall we keep moving?"

"Yes."

They set off again, side by side.

"I think it fell into that clump of sedges down there," said James, pointing to a spot where the lake rounded a bend close to the forest's edge and near to the old stone boundary wall.

"And yours?" Lily asked.

"What?"

"Your wand?"

"Oh—It's mahogany," he said with a smile.

They lapsed back into silence, though less awkward this time, as they rounded the bend which James had pointed out.

"It should be right around here somewhere," he said, pointing into the thickest tufts. "Let's spread out a bit and start searching."

He began sweeping the clumps of grass with his toes and out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lily doing the same, but then suddenly, on a small patch of bare ground between them he spotted it—a mere jumble of black, white, and brown feathers. One wing bent sharply into the air; its head jackknifed in an unnaturally acute angle; its beak bored into the dirt.

"It's over here," he said with a solemn nod, advancing toward where it lay. Lily paused, then pattered forth in the same direction.

James reached it first and squatted down on his haunches next to it. Automatically, his eyes scanned the broken body of the sublime bird. Although flecked in dust from its impact with the ground, he could still see its every streamlined glossy feather and imagined the rushes of liquid air they had known. It evoked memories of the wind in his hair, his cheeks being pinned back, and tears being pulled from the corners of his eyes.

He knew from reading _Which Broomstick _and _Quidditch Monthly_ that the best manufacturers could only hope to capture the diving characteristics of these fine flyers. His eyes momentarily flickered closed and he sighed from somewhere deep in his chest, thinking about the lamentable reality that such a bird would never fly again.

His private thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the feeling of being watched and the recollection that Lily stood so close by. Angling his head, he saw that she stood above him, observing him keenly; yet respectfully, she waited for him to speak.

He straightened up to face her. "It's definitely dead," he murmured. She nodded in solemn agreement then crouched down to have a look. James remained standing, trying his best not to intrude, though he couldn't help but notice how her eyes scanned it much as his own had. Only a small crease between her brows betrayed her thoughts. She reminded him of Moony sometimes, though even more compassionate.

"It's sad to see something that was once so full of life now dead and broken," she said.

James silently agreed.

"Well, I can fix the broken part, at least." She reached out for its angular wing and touched a wand tip gently to its feathers.

"_Ossify!"_ she said in barely a whisper.

James was puzzled. "You know healing charms?"

"One or two," she said, flexing the newly mended wing and setting it peacefully back against its body.

She glanced up at him. Her coppery hair bent the sunlight and scattered its rays.

"Could you have healed Remus's foot?" he asked, as she stood up next to him and brushed the dust from her hands.

"I'm not ready to practice on people." She smiled weakly at the indirect compliment, shaking her head.

Inwardly, James wagered otherwise, recalling the first time he and his friends had bolstered their resolve to attempt the potentially-dangerous Animagus transformation. And Lily never ceased to amaze him with her magical abilities.

"So what do we do now?" Lily asked, casting a look back down at the bird still lying on the ground.

"Well, we can't just leave it here—obviously," said James and the wheels began turning in his head in the hopes of providing a solution.

For a moment, they stared at the bird in collective thought.

"I could conjure something to wrap it in, like another towel—" ventured Lily, "—but where would we bury it?"

James's expression shifted as he performed a mental summary of the grounds.

"Do—do wizards bury their dead?" Lily backtracked suddenly. A strange note of uncertainty had crept into her voice, striking an audible departure from her usually confident tone. And he found it odd to see her looking at him like that, her brows scrunched in an inquisitive vee, intently waiting for his answer.

_Right...she's Muggleborn. She wouldn't know._

Since all four of his closest friends claimed at least one magical parent, he rarely fielded such questions, and he sometimes forgot to expect them from her; Lily always seemed so perfectly at ease in the Wizarding World.

"They do," he replied evenly.

_Hadn't she ever encountered the Hogwarts cemetery before, located well beyond the Quidditch pitch?_ Peter had quite memorably stubbed a toe against a marble headstone late one night during an excursion back in fourth year. _Unfortunately, the Hogwarts cemetery was a place to inter __wizards__. As to where to bury an __animal__—?_

Lily remained square to him, but unlike her earlier posture on the path, with her shoulders so firmly set in resolve, she wore an expectant, slightly questioning look.

Against the sudden silence, the waterside elm overhead rustled in the breeze.

"I think we'd best ask Hagrid that question. He'll know of a good place." James gave a resolute nod. Though he and his friends claimed to know the grounds better than any other students who'd preceded them, Hagrid's knowledge of it was unsurpassed.

"Let's leave it here for now and go check out the cliff," he ventured, giving his head a sideways nod in that direction. "I'm still interested in seeing whether there were any fledglings left behind... And I ought to see if Sirius has returned."

Lily's feet remained rooted as her brow knit deeply. "But wouldn't this bird have had a mate?"

James's eyes flitted across Lily's. "No, for some reason I don't think it had one."

"Why not? Don't birds nest in pairs?" she persisted.

"Well, if they were nesting in a pair, wouldn't its mate have flown out too?"

"Hm, I suppose so," she agreed.

_Does she find discussing 'mates' as awkward as I do? Probably not._

The sun winked down through the leaves, dancing on the ground between them.

"How do you know so much about falcons?" she asked quizzically, breaking the awkward pause.

"There's a reason so many Quidditch teams are named after birds of prey_,_" explained James, as though on cue. "There's the Falmouth Falcons, the Kenmare Kestrels, the Holyhead Harpies…" He slipped his hands out of his pockets and began to pull back fingers and count off professional teams before deciding he needn't bore her with the list_—_though strangely enough, she appeared to be listening. "They've, um, always interested me."

They continued making eye contact after his words ran out. For a lingering moment, James returned her gaze, every nerve, it seemed, alert.

Lily glanced away. "Should we head back to the cliff, then?" she suggested lightly.

"That anxious to get rid of me, Evans?" he quipped.

Lily gave a funny little smirk and replied, "It's either that or I run back up to the castle and ask the Bloody Baron to strangle me right now."

James flashed a gamely smile.

"Be a pity," he mumbled.

"Why?"

"I was just starting to enjoy hanging 'round with you."

She blushed as they broke into step. The tall grasses, which hadn't yet sprung much new growth for spring, and consisted mainly of last year's dry blades, made a soft shirring noise as they left them and rounded the stand of trees to begin the walk back up to the cliff.

"Do wizards keep falcons?" asked Lily, her tone thoughtful.

"Like owls, you mean?" he glanced over mid-step. "Funny you should ask. It used to be quite popular. It still is, somewhat, though it's a bit of a dying art." He tucked his hands into his pockets and recalled a fascination formed back in his childhood, when he'd plop down on the Persian rug of the family library and flip through books, mesmerized by the moving pictures of them, soaring through sparsely clouded skies, wings athletically apoint. "_I've_ always wanted one."

"Oh? What's the allure?" Lily's head swivelled, her expression eager.

"Well, they're the fasted flyers on earth...incredible divers...and amazingly intelligent too. They'll perform pretty much any task you set them to. Merlin kept 'em," he added in a tone of finality meant to imply '_and everyone knew he was bloody brilliant_.' "He was famous for them, actually." He glanced over, checking for her reaction.

Lily met his eye. "But they're not magical creatures, are they? I mean, Muggles keep them too."

"Right. That's the thing—they're simply amazing."

Lily ventured a look in his direction, he could feel it on his profile, but he kept his eyes on the sloping grass ahead. Meanwhile, the words 'not of magical origin' and 'simply amazing' swirled nebulously through his head and he felt grateful for Legilimency being a very rare skill.

"So…you're planning on climbing down to have a look?" asked Lily.

He nodded a stoic 'yes'. He had no idea what a nest built into the side of a cliff really looked like, though he could scrabble up a decent mental picture of one. He wondered whether he should wait for Sirius to arrive before scrambling down.

"Why wouldn't you just fly?" asked Lily.

He glanced over at her, pleasantly surprised she'd brought up flying. "Because I'd have to run all the way back up to Gryffindor Tower to get my broom. I can't _Accio! _it from here—it'd wreak havoc on its way out of the castle—

"Wreaking havoc's never stopped you before," Lily interrupted.

James smiled. "And then, Filch'd be all too happy to give me detention from now 'til the end of the year." Lily conceded a half-smile. "Furthermore," he paused slightly, "it's hidden between my mattresses at the moment."

Lily speculatively arched a brow.

"I don't like having it jinxed," he answered simply.

"So—" Lily began, loading a pause, "will this be your latest act of gloooorious heroism? Something for the whole _schoooool _to talk about until the holidays arrive?"

_Huh? _They'd just been working together so harmoniously, James felt a sudden stab of betrayal. _Was this some sort of trick question, like the earlier Fanged Frisbee one?_ He checked her expression…

She was fighting back a smile, green eyes twinkling… Having him on.

James chuckled uncomfortably. He had to give her credit for nerve.

"Funny, Evans… I see what you think I'm all about."

Lily laughed too. Before the sparks of merriment had died from their eyes, they came upon the precipice.

"We jumped from here," he said, peering over the edge. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd be impressed; the thought had sneaked forth involuntarily, like a wisp of ether.

Lily leaned over the spot indicated and dropped her gaze to the water below. The wind had kicked up since he'd jumped with Sirius and the ripples along the surface had darkened and deepened in amplitude. A drape of hair hid her expression.

The wind tousled a red lock into the updraft as though it were a dancing Firemuse. James turned to face into the breeze bracing their backs and caught sight of a familiar figure strutting down the lawn in an unhurried, graceful lope. It was a walk which had become intimately familiar over six years…

Sirius.

A moment later, his best mate pulled to a stop in front of him. At once, before Lily had had time to turn around, Sirius ever-so-subtly arched a brow in silent enquiry: _'Fairing all right, mate? Still getting along?_ _You mean_ s_he hasn't hexed you yet?' _The expression fled before James had time to answer it.

"I brought this—" said Sirius, producing a small wooden crate which had been hanging by his side. It bore the words "Zanzibar's Magical Spices" in scrolling black script; the rusty screws and weathered wood suggested it had traveled from afar upon inclement seas. "Kitchens," he added to James.

"We'll need it," said Lily, taking it from his outstretched hand. "We found the bird," she said, and the soft timbre of her voice suggested that, as suspected, it had met its demise.

"So what's going on now?" asked Sirius soberly.

"I thought we should have a look for a nest," said James. "Too bad you didn't bring my broom."

"I can't remember everything," Sirius replied with a grin. "So who's climbing down, then?" Sirius cast a glance in Lily's direction as though he dare not assume. Then he walked to the edge and peered over; the updraft rifled his fringe.

"_I _was about to," said James.

"Excellent. Down you go then," Sirius directed in a sing-song voice.

_What's he so bloody cheery about?_

"I'll keep Evans company up here in the meantime," Sirius added, his voice ringing—to James's ears, at least—with devilish nonchalance.

_Ha—so that was it!_

_The dog._

James resisted the urge to answer with a grin. He tucked his wand safely into his waistband, seized the blunt stones of the lip, and began to lower himself down.

Sirius and Lily leaned over the edge to watch him go. Lily's hair trailed down like Rapunzel's and somehow, though leaning several degrees over a precipice, Sirius still managed to keep his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

"Watch your step," advised Sirius flippantly.

"Yeah, be careful, Potter," added Lily.

A/N: Many thanks to Sherylyn at Phoenix Song for the beta!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: A Rescue**

The breeze rippled the fabric of his shirt and tousled his hair as James scaled down the side of the basalt cliff. He moved carefully around small prominences, his clothes rubbing against the rock and breaking colourful flakes of lichen free; they spiralled and fluttered in a graceful helix toward the water below. Occasional tufts of grass sprouted out from dirt-packed crevices between the stones as he inched his way down.

Physically, the climbing felt easy enough: all the features seemed bigger and easier to hold on to than they appeared from a distance; the rock felt pleasantly cool against his skin; and the slightly daredevil nature of the mission made James feel indescribably alive and free. Decidedly, this made up for missing a good flying session today.

He'd lost sight of Sirius and Lily and he briefly wondered what they were conversing about in his absence. He reached out a toe for the next small foothold and scanned the rock below him. Ten feet away diagonally, a mass of errant feathers fluttered in the breeze, glued to a small ledge. Suspicion piqued, he began moving towards them.

Finally, his feet reached the ledge. It was roomy and supportive enough to take some weight off his arms, but no sooner had he stepped onto it than a chorus of high-pitched screeches broke out from somewhere within the rock.

_Aha! Result!_

He arched at the ribs to get a better look and discovered a fissure of rock which opened at his toe. Edging further down, he reached eye level with the opening and peered inside: Atop a homespun pillow of dried golden grasses sat three very silly looking chicks, resembling miniature Puffskeins with beaks, shrieking furiously for their missing mother.

"All that noise out of you three?" James grinned.

The chicks stared back at him, shrieking. They conspicuously lacked adult feathers; instead, juvenile downy ones stuck out on all sides as though they'd been electrified by a fabulous bolt of lightning from Thor's Hammer. Braving the racket, James reached in to coax one out.

"Easy now…"

They flapped their wings and skittered backwards into the farthest recess of the crevice.

"Yes, I see. You don't want to come out. Got your own little London Underground down here."

Closer… He stretched his thin fingers toward the nearest one...

"OUCH!"

He jerked his hand back and flexed his thumb: a smear of blood appeared above the second joint, flanked by ragged, white epidermis. James assessed it.

_A bit jagged. Trivial compared to most of Moony's injuries, really. And not unlike many of the ones I get on the pitch…_

"Are you all right?" Lily called down. He glanced up to see her peering over the edge; Sirius's head appeared next to hers.

James nodded wordlessly before turning his attention back to the nest. The chicks had mysteriously suspended their racket and were now staring back at him with chatoyant yellow eyes.

"Blimey, you look so innocent."

The leftmost began chirping again, setting off the other two.

_C'mon, Potter..._ James stared back into the small cave and pondered the situation.

_Maybe I should just levitate them? But wouldn't that scare the living daylights out of them? And they seemed scared enough already._

He suddenly called to mind the thick suede gloves he'd seen falconers wear.

_But even if I __could__ conjure one, how would I climb back up with my hand mitted? What I really need is—Merlin's pants!—one of those sleek leather jackets out of the_ _pages of Sirius's motorbike magazines. If only clothing weren't one of the exceptions to Gamp's Law..._

_Hmmm, it's probably for the best. Padfoot would definitely find it amusing, but Lily might not. She already seems to think I have an enormous talent for showing off..._

After giving it a moment's further thought, he slipped his wand from the waistband of his trunks and conjured a small scrap of suede with which to reach in and grab the little blighters. With this, he reached back into the fissure and worked a hand around one of the fledglings, managing to pin its wings down in the process. Its glassy eyes bulged in alarm.

"SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEP! SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEP! SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEP!"

"Easy now. Don't panic."

Precariously balanced, he looped up the bottom of his shirt and tucked the chick into the fold, closing his arm to trap it; its talons grappled for purchase, piercing through the cotton. Blimey…

He quickly procured the remaining two chicks, tucked them into the cradle of his arm along with their sibling, and discarded the mitt in the little nest cavity, where it would shortly vanish.

The task of climbing back up proved decidedly more difficult when using only three of four limbs. Only the fingertips of his left hand remained free to balance on small edges while he kept his elbow locked against his side. Strangely enough, the little brood had quieted down: Were they simply too frightened to move? Or were they enjoying the fresh air? And the free ride?

Ten feet from the top, Sirius's head popped over the edge.

"See, I told you James would be quick—" James heard him mutter as he disappeared and then reappeared with Lily alongside him.

Suddenly, one of the chicks managed to poke its head out from between his chest and arm, free one wing, and unleash a mad series of flaps in an attempt to escape.

"Cack!" protested James, lurching backwards to avoid a small battering in the face. He pinned his arm in. Feathers atomized in the air, drifting and swirling until, miraculously, the chick settled back down of its own accord. James glanced at it warily and noticed the brown spot marking its beak: it was the same chick who'd earlier given him the nasty peck.

Quickly, he edged up the last few feet.

"Nice work, James," said Sirius, hastening forward to help. He plopped prone on the grass and braced a hand under James's right elbow to steady him. Lily dropped to her knees on his other side. James tilted the cradle of his arm upwards to put the birds within their reach.

"Watch their talons and beaks," he warned. "They're sharp."

Lily gently scooped up a chick. Sirius prized a second one. Lily took the third, her fingertips grazing the skin of his tanned arm. Finally, James grasped the lip with both hands again.

"Better take this," he said, slicing his wand through the air and conjuring another small bit of leather, then tossing it to Lily who caught it and used it to pad her bare arm. "Though it's only temporary."

"What about me?" Sirius objected.

"Conjure your own, pillock," James retorted, pressing himself back up over the edge and clapping his hands and shorts free of dust.

"They all right?" he inquired, seeing both Lily and Sirius's heads bent over the new arrivals.

Sirius nodded absently. James glanced over his mate's shoulder at the fuzzy little ball he was cradling with surprising care against his chest.

"More trouble than Loki, that one," James said, noticing the spotted beak.

"Loki?" questioned Lily.

"Old wizarding myth," replied Sirius absently, his face too intent on the downy chick he was stroking to explain. Lily wore an expression of equal enthrall as she caressed the other two, her fingers leaving little furrows in their down.

"Loki was Odin's trouble-mongering half-brother," explained James. "He liked to turn into a falcon when he'd just pulled some punishable trick and needed to hide—though he had other disguises too."

"No wonder you two know so much about him!" She smiled without looking up.

"Pretty cute little devils," Sirius remarked, still stroking the most mischievous triplet, while James looked on, amused.

"Poor things," Lily cooed, her almond eyes narrowing in sympathy, "They're _orphans_!"

"—And we're they're new mothers?" Sirius raised his brows in mock alarm.

"I'm not sure that's a good thing," quipped a wry voice from upslope.

Lily glanced up. As soon as she caught sight of Remus, she broke into a smile; it doubled when she noticed her friends trailing along behind him.

The girls instantly gathered around Lily, cooing and eager to pet the fuzzy little birds and chatting amongst themselves. James vaguely caught a few words like 'so cute' and 'how?'—and did Lily just politely call him 'James'?—before Bonnie shot a glance in his direction.

"You climbed down there, Potter?" she asked, her amber eyes wide. Florence spun to look too.

"I climbed down there, McDermott," he replied jocularly. It didn't seem like that big of a deal, but she and Florence went to peer over the edge, holding onto the hem of each other's shirts as they took turns leaning over.

"Where's Peter?" James asked, glancing up toward the castle.

"He's on his way," answered Remus, who had stopped next to Sirius to stroke the chick. "Pomfrey's a little behind this morning. She's having a hard time locating a bottle of Murtlap. Thinks one of the deliveries might have gone astray. She's right furious about it. Puttering around muttering something about the mail being unreliable these days..."

"She could always substitute an unction, couldn't she?" bandied Lily.

The image of Pomfrey bustling around the hospital wing descended easily upon James. He'd spent enough time, as both patient and visitor, to know the nurse well.

"A lost package?" James mused. "Mm, that'd send her into a swivet." _It happened occasionally, even though the post owls were usually so reliable—that's what made them the bird of choice for the post. Well, that and their ready availability as a species. They never broke any air speed records, but—_

A sudden though struck James. "Imagine if we trained them to deliver our post!"

Sirius stilled in comprehension before letting out a bark of laughter at the sky. "Ha! Imagine McGonagall's face!"

"Imagine _that_ swooping over the milk jug," Florence cut in sourly.

"Yes, _exaaaactly,"_ replied James, his enthusiasm growing.

"They're smaller than an Eagle Owl—" protested Sirius logically.

"—Or a Great Horned Owl," added James.

Lily, who had been silently stroking a chick, wore the upturnings of a smile. "I hate to rain on your parade, Potter, but McGonagall already hands out a list of approved creatures students can bring to Hogwarts. It was in our Acceptance Letters, remember?"

"You _are_ raining on my parade, Evans," James quipped. "I was thinking that you lot could use them, too, you know. There _are_ three of them."

"We could at least use them over the holidays," Remus suggested.

"Over the holidays, Moony? Tosh, that's no fun!" Sirius protested.

"Oh, my sister would _looove _that—" Lily rolled her eyes.

"Especially if she had friends over," Bonnie grinned.

"And you walked around with it on your shoulder," added Florence, wearing a would-be-innocent smile and standing up tall like a pageant entrant.

"And wore my witch's hat," added Lily, eyes twinkling.

"What's with your sister?" James asked tentatively. He'd once seen her waiting on the train platform, wearing an expression of purest sour grapes. She didn't appear to be enjoying the magical world at all, which he found rather shocking.

"She's…um…averse to magic," Lily answered.

"I gathered as much," replied James while in the background Sirius asked an abrupt, "Why?"

"You gathered as much?" asked Lily curiously, ignoring Sirius's 'why?'

"Saw her on the platform once." _While I was watching you._ Perhaps the only thing he'd observed about Lily's sister that day to recommend her was the unmistakable way she'd recoiled as Snape had brushed past her on his way toward the exit, as though he'd had some rare disease. He smiled involuntarily at the memory of it.

"Once would tell you all you need to know," Lily replied. "My parents have to make her come to King's Cross now." She paused as though undecided whether to go on. "And she gets really out of sorts when I receive owl post at home." Lily frowned. "Thinks it'll make us look like freaks around the neighbourhood to have owls circling the house."

"All the more reason to acquire a falcon," Sirius declared.

Lily's lips twitched. "Black—"

"Fortunately, you only have a cat, so she doesn't need to get all stroppy about it very often," James pointed out. "But I have to agree with Sirius."

"Do you ever not?" Lily cheeked, tilting her head.

Remus cut in. "We'd better get to Hagrid's with these, doncha think?"

Bonnie turned to investigate the chick Sirius held. "Yeah, they may be cute and fuzzy and all, but that doesn't mean they want us manhandling them all day."

"Spoken like a true farm girl." Sirius nodded sagely.

"Don't make fun of me!" Bonnie rounded on him with a flash in her eyes.

Sirius threw his free hand up defensively and backed a step away. "I'm not! Think I wouldn't have rather grown up around McDermott's Magical Farm than Grimmauld Place?"

He rarely spoke of it outright, James knew, but by now it was common knowledge around Hogwarts that Sirius had run away from home, that he lived with James. A few of the more loathsome Slytherins liked to spin it quite differently, as if Sirius had been a disgrace to his family, had been outcast, a rumour which they didn't dare utter in his presence.

Bonnie cooled at Sirius's excusal.

"Look, we're forgetting one thing," said James. "We haven't done anything with the mother bird yet."

"Why don't you and I come back for it after we drop these chicks off at Hagrid's?" suggested Sirius.

"Seems disrespectful to leave it lying there much longer," Lily interjected.

"True." Sirius picked up the crate off the ground with his free arm. "Why don't you two just go get it? You know where it is already," he said nonchalantly and held the crate out to James with a steady gaze.

James caught the cool regard of Florence watching them and wondered if it had been obvious. He slipped the crate from Sirius's outstretched hand and directed a query of renewed partnership at Lily. He'd only half-raised a brow when she nodded and handed the chick she was holding over to Bonnie. And without further exchange of words, she and James set off together, the crate swinging loosely at his side. Only a few yards passed in silence this time.

"Was it hard to find them?" Lily asked, as they withdrew from their friends.

He glanced over. "The chicks? Nah, not really."

He'd noticed during that glance that she was about six inches shorter than him in height, their strides were in unison, and the ends of her glossy hair shifted across her shoulders with each step, the sun glinting off it like a prism.

"They didn't exactly trust me once I'd found them though—thought I was highly suss," he relayed with a grin.

Lily smirked. "Smart birds."

A pause elapsed.

"Was it scary climbing down?" she asked evenly.

He shook his head. "Nah, not really. You'd've done it."

"Maybe if I had to," Lily laughed.

James felt warmed by the compliment, though he didn't show it outside of a modest smile. "The hardest part was getting them out of their little hidey hole." He automatically glanced down at his pecked hand, where the blood had clotted into the start of a messy scab.

They lapsed into silence as they rounded the final bend, a few of last year's dry leaves crunching underfoot as though picking up where the conversation had left off.

"Well, here we are—" Lily indicated the familiar clump of sedges and slowed her step.

James spotted the bird quite easily this time. Stepping to the middle of the patch, he knelt down in front of it and placed the crate on the ground by its side. Lily crouched down opposite him.

"Let's fold its wings back, shall we?" she suggested, and, reaching out, she smoothed them against its salt and pepper body. Next, she trailed a finger down its beak to wipe it free of dust and the coat of dirt gave way to glossy onyx.

"There, that looks a little better…"

James agreed; Lily's adjustments rendered the falcon regal and dignified again. Ensconcing it with his hands, he gently lifted it up off the ground. Lily scooted the crate underneath before he'd managed to request it.

"Thanks," he said, setting it down inside.

Lily flicked her wand into the air. A sky blue ribbon of fabric furled from the tip and a silk scarf fluttered the ground.

"Good choice," he murmured.

"Better suited to the occasion than a beach towel," Lily agreed, snatching it up and tucking it gently around the feathery body with her deft and light touch. "We can ask Hagrid for something permanent later."

When she'd finished swaddling it, they both rose. James tucked the crate under his arm and glanced at Lily to synchronize their walk back up the hill.

Lily didn't budge.

"Let's see your hand," she said, reaching out her own.

He glanced down at her outstretched palm and his stomach gave a warm lurch. He blinked, but she didn't elaborate.

"It's nothing, really," he stammered.

"It's _not_ nothing. Let me see it."

Slowly, he switched the crate under his left arm and complied, producing his wounded hand. His pulse throbbed.

Lily tucked her hair behind her ears before taking it and, using both of hers, rotated it so that the beak cut faced upwards. It was impossible not to feel the way her fingers brushed, soft and light, against his own. He was absorbed in these thoughts when she glanced up, flashed a funny little half-smirk, and quipped, "Don't think I'm doing this to hold your hand, Potter."

_Hmmm…She can't possibly expect me not to respond to that sort of cheek, can she?_

A grin slid onto his face. "You don't have to deny it, Evans."

Lily's lips twitched as she continued to examine his hand. Stilling it, her eyes pored over the wound.

"Just don't transfigure me into a Billywig, please."

"Oh, I could think of better things to turn you into than that," she muttered with a devilish glint in her eye as she set her own hand like a perch of support under his and twisted yet a few inches closer on the dry leaves to decrease the working distance. Lastly, she slipped her wand out of her pocket.

His pulse raced at her proximity and the softness of her touch.

She poised the tip of her wand above the wound and said, "Think of something pleasant and hold still."

_Something pleasant… Like your hand holding mine? _He fought back a cascade of deeply unhelpful thoughts along with the impish smirk to go with them and, after attempting to focus on the swaying treetops, he closed his eyes.

A moment later a sensation of warmth suffused his palm like this morning's sunbeams through his window pane.

Lily's fingers moving across his skin prompted him to open his eyes again: She busily inspected the result. Through her probing fingers, he caught a glimpse of unbroken skin where there had once been a wound. _Unblemished peach. No more red._

"Mmm, there's one on my palm too," he murmured hopefully, turning his hand over to be helpful. He braced for contention, but none came. She merely glanced up to check his expression before turning her attention to examining the new wound. Head bent, she arched his fingers back to get a better look.

"How'd you do _that _one?"

"Fanged Frisbee. Bonnie's a bad throw."

"You _do_ seem to have a certain flair for—Hold still again, please..."

James watched her expression this time. Disks of sunlight filtering through the trees dappled her face and hair and she wore a look of calm concentration, eyebrows narrowed ever so slightly as she tipped her wand point to his skin. A second wave of warmth spread through his palm…

_Nonverbal_, James noted. He'd been too preoccupied by her touch to register it the first time.

"There," she pronounced, flexing his fingers back one last time and assessing before she released his hand.

James examined her work: The blood was completely gone. And there was no scar.

"Wow...You're as good as Pomfrey..." _And better than my mum, I think._

Even the creases of his skin ran continuously. Not as much could be said for the elbow he'd skinned when he'd crashed his broom in the field behind the house at age seven—he bore scars.

Lily smiled faintly at the compliment. "You weren't nervous about letting me practice on you?"

James shook his head blithely. "I had confidence in you."

A subtle blush crept into Lily's cheeks. "Thanks..."

A peal of Bonnie's laughter drifted down the hill.

"I think we'd better get back," she said, glancing up toward the castle.

James tightened his hold on the crate tucked under his arm. "After you."

They broke into step.

When they rejoined their fellow Gryffindors, they discovered that the abandoned quartet had become a quintet with the arrival of Peter. The conversation, however, still revolved around the subject of McDermott's Magical Farm.

"So is the farm still giving tours?" asked Remus, lounging on the grass, propped up by his palms.

"Not to the four of you!" Bonnie protested laughingly. "The cows would stop giving milk!"

"Nah, we'd behave," said Sirius, who was leaning back on his elbows, a blade of grass sticking out the side of his mouth. James was glad to see he'd fully recovered from his earlier moment of brooding and a lively conversation in full swing. Upon sight of James, Sirius nodded tacitly toward Hagrid's hut, and, after he and Remus had brushed themselves off, the seven of them began walking across the grounds. Lily wended back in amongst her friends.

"Besides, we wouldn't want to jeopardize the ice cream business," Sirius added, casting a deferential look in Florence's direction.

"Yes, my dad would be grateful for that," Florence replied, flicking a sheet of blond hair over her shoulder.

"So do you all get unlimited ice creams then, when you visit Diagon Alley?" asked James from the back of the mobile group, wistfully picturing scoops of Conjured Caramel, Fizzing Whizbee, Hovering Hazelnut, and the many other decadent flavours arranged in round tubs behind the counter.

"So do _we_—every time we visit the _kitchens_," Sirius interjected in an undertone.

James grinned.

The debate over the best flavour of Fortescue's Ice Cream brought them all the way to Hagrid's doorstop. The fledglings had been passed around more frequently now that everyone had become familiar with their screeching and scratching, even after following James's advice and conjuring various forms of protection.

_RAT-A-TAT-TAT_. Remus reached up and knocked on the door while the flavour debate died down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: A ****Funeral**

The cabin stood still. No footsteps boomed across the floorboards to answer Remus's knock as anticipated. Only a surreptitious robin bustling in the thatch of the roof provided animation.

Sirius turned an eye on James. "Guess we shouldn't've expected Hagrid to be home on a perfectly nice Saturday."

"So what do we do now?" Bonnie cut in.

James glanced at the chick fussing in Florence's arms, all flapping wings and pokey feet. "Dunno."

Meanwhile, Sirius bent his body to peer around the edge of the cabin. "Think we should have a look around?"

"Can't hurt," agreed Lily.

"Even if we can't find Hagrid, maybe there's something we could use for a cage," suggested Remus as the fledgling he was holding tried to grapple its way up his cotton shirt and around his neck; Lily reached up to help extract it and James noticed wistfully how comfortable she seemed around his friend. He wished he could say the same for the way she acted around him.

"D'you think there's any place in the Owlery that could be set up for them?" asked Florence.

James shifted his lips. "T's'a good idea. Only thing is, someone'd have to check on them regularly."

"And we're leaving in three days," Sirius concluded. _And what then?_

Remus concurred with a nod. "Right. So it'd be better if we could set them up here at Hagrid's. I'm sure he'd be willing to watch them."

Sirius turned to James with a twinkle in his eye and a budding grin. "Why don't we just keep them in our dormitory until it's time to go?"

Peter's mouth fell open a little.

_Perfect._ "And then take them home for summer?" James pictured releasing a nearly full-grown messenger from his arm by summer's end.

"I could take one home with _me_," interjected Bonnie. "My parents wouldn't mind."

James turned toward her. "That'd be ace, McDermott—and we'll take the other two—unless Hagrid or anyone else wants one. I'll find some way to convince my parents…"

"Because we _always_ find a way to convince your parents," Sirius hooted mirthfully.

"Oh Merlin…" Lily rolled her eyes. Remus, for his part, sported a knowing smile.

"Evans, you sure you don't want one?" James prodded.

"It'd be the perfect way to show your sister who's boss," chimed Sirius.

Florence tittered.

"It's not a matter of wanting one," replied Lily. "It's a matter of whether I can handle living under the same roof as Petunia if I have one."

James, who didn't have any siblings, had been over the moon about Sirius's coming to live with him. This, and his general interest in all things Lily Evans, made him deeply curious about Lily's relationship with her sister. And he'd rarely been denied access to anything magical at home. Questions formed.

"Hey, look, there's Hagrid!" Bonnie pointed off toward the stables, where a gigantic man wearing a denim boilersuit could be seen grinning broadly and approaching with multi-yard steps. The group spun to look. Hagrid waved a broomtail-sized hand. They all waved back.

"Well, at least now Hagrid can tell us how to care for them," Remus remarked.

James agreed. "Until they've fledged, at least, and can find food on their own." From what he knew of them, falcons weren't entirely different from owls, save their being diurnal rather than nocturnal. But then again, he'd never cared for a _juvenile _owl before…

Just then Hagrid tromped into range behind them. "Lookin' fer me? To what der I owe—?" His eyes fell to the chick in Florence's arms and then the one in Remus's and his brows plunged.

Remus dove into explanation. "Hagrid, we rescued these chicks from the cliff. It's a long story, but the—ah—adult bird that was with them died," he relayed, managing not to glance at Peter, "and… we're pretty sure they've been orphaned."

"Oh—" Hagrid's whole face fell.

"Can you help us figure out what to do with them?" Lily piped in.

"We brought the dead bird down, too," said James, giving the crate under his arm a little lift. "We were hoping you'd know of a place we could bury it."

Hagrid's beetle black eyes lost some of their glitter as they fell upon it. "How'd it die?"

"It tried to attack a student," James answered carefully, but his mouth felt dry just saying the words. "Someone, er, Stunned it. In defense." He avoided looking at Lily and Peter as he spoke.

"Cryin' shame," murmured Hagrid. "I've bin watchin' them two. Fine pair. Flyin' high and loft all spring." He glanced up at the eastern sky. "The other'un died las' week—protectin' the territory.

"Protecting the territory? From what?" asked Florence.

"Eagle," said Hagrid. "Very territorial birds, yeh see, them eagles. Think these two moved into its ol' nest."

"Oh," said Lily ruefully.

Hagrid reached out a sausage-like finger to stroke the chick in Remus's arms. It gave a feeble cheep and burrowed its head. "Foller me. Think we can figger out sometin' ter do with 'em…"

"We were hoping to take them home in a few days," interjected James. "D'you think we'd be able to care for them ourselves?" Even if they had to pore through the pages of research books, they'd do it…

At this, Hagrid seemed to brighten. "O' course. I always liked takin' things home meself when I was yer age." Then he paused to swallow a strange lump in his throat and look askance. "D'yeh need a place ter keep 'em until then?"

Sirius and James exchanged consulting looks.

"Maybe," Bonnie hedged.

"Well, foller me." The Gryffindors gave Hagrid room to pass before trailing him around the side of his cabin. He stopped and glanced around at a worn but sunny patch of earth and waved a hand at the ground. "Ought ter be able ter build sum cages or summat on this side." An old chopping stump lay on the ground about ten feet out from the cabin with an axe and a maul lying up against it and shavings scattered about. "Stays nice 'n warm o'er here."

James glanced back at the Quidditch pitch, his own version of Polaris when orienting himself on the Hogwarts grounds. He could always picture the spot where the afternoon sun fell below the trees, and from there he could imagine its daily arc over the castle.

"Eventually they'll need room to fly," he said, thinking aloud. His eyes breached the overhang of the roof, picturing a cage constructed against it. "But not if they're only going to be here for a few days." _Then they can fly in Godric's Hollow…_

Bonnie flashed him a bemused smile. "You would think of that, Potter."

"Will they learn to fly without parents?" asked Florence quizzically.

"It's their instinct." Hagrid nodded. "Might take 'em a little longer, but they will. Suppose they could always foller James, here—if they needed a bit of a lesson." Hagrid smiled approvingly. "He's probably s'good a flyer as their parents were."

Lily let out a groan, but her smile belied it. James barely noticed; the idea of him and Sirius flying over the countryside with raptors unfolded into such a glorious mental picture that his stomach did a barrel roll.

Sirius clapped his hands together. "Should we get started then?"

"Yes," croaked Remus, up the front of whose shirt the chick was grappling once again.

"I can put 'em inside fer now," offered Hagrid, picking up an empty well bucket near his feet and holding it out.

"Good idea, thanks." Remus deposited the chick in the bottom of it. Bonnie and Florence added the better-behaved siblings. The downy trio began jumping for the lip like kernels of popping corn until Hagrid spanned a hand over it. Meanwhile, James set the crate atop the woodpile to be dealt with later, taking care to wedge it in the logs.

"What are we going to use to build a cage?" asked Peter, eyeing the side of the hut.

"We can Transfigure something," answered James.

"We'll need some sort of wire—" mused Bonnie.

"— and poles to keep it up off the ground," added Remus.

"Might have somethin' in me hut you could use fer the wire," said Hagrid.

"And the poles—?" asked Florence.

"Hagrid, are there any small trees we can cut down?" Sirius's eyes flitted toward the Forbidden Forest, with which he was far too familiar to admit to a member of the staff. James nearly laughed at the convincingness of his look.

"Yeah, like saplings," clarified Remus.

"There's summat over there," said Hagrid. "See that small stand of poplars?"

_Right. They knew the very one. How many nights had they capered past—?_

"Maybe someun'd like ter follow me inside," suggested Hagrid. "See if they can find somethin' fer the wire."

"Like an old burlap bag," suggested James. Likeness always made for easy Transfiguring.

"Or a blanket," added Florence.

"We'll go," asserted Lily, glancing at her friends.

"I've got blankets in me hut, only—" Hagrid paused, wearing a reluctant look "—I knitted 'em meself, I'd hate to part with em'."

"We can always Transfigure them back once we're done. Easy enough," assured James.

"Sorted," said Sirius, taking a step toward the forest, then pausing to wait for his friends. James, Peter, and Remus took cue and fell into step alongside him. Together, they skirted the front of Hagrid's cabin and began heading across the clearing toward a patch of vetch at the forest's edge.

As he strode along, Sirius glanced at Remus's collar line. "Moony, just so you know, your neck looks like someone locked you in a broom cupboard with Mary Rancourt."

Remus contorted himself to have a look.

"I'd consider wearing a turtleneck for the train ride home," James concurred with mock sincerity.

Remus completed his assessment unalarmed. "Fortunately, Pomfrey could actually heal these." The same could not be said for his usual cursed scars from full moons.

"You must have been holding Loki," said Sirius.

Two more footfalls punctuated their walk before James asked at large, "Did you know Lily knows Healing Charms?"

"She does?"

"Yeah, she, um… used one on my hand." He found himself trailing off at the end, as though he'd divulged something private to his mates, something he might have wanted to keep to himself. He said nothing of summer sunbeams and Lily's gentle touch.

Sirius raised his brows as though impressed. Then his face budded into a grin. "You mean she had you at wand point and she didn't hex you?"

Peter sniggered.

"What'd you do to your hand?" asked Remus, who hadn't been present during the cliff rescue.

"One of the chicks pecked it."

"Let's see it." Sirius waved a finger at James's hand as they came to a stop in front of the small grove.

"S'gone," said James, holding it out in exhibit. Sirius leaned over to examine it.

"That's rather impressive," pronounced Sirius, straightening up.

"I agree," added Moony, who had also crowded in. Peter's eyes floated reverently toward James's.

"Well, no one ever said Evans wasn't good at magic," said Sirius.

"And if they did, they were wrong," added Remus.

"Agreed."

"Well, shall we?" Sirius's eyes floated to the grove. They all spread out to select a tree; James and Sirius stayed in each other's vicinity, while Remus and Peter wandered farther off.

Little blue woodland flowers had begun to sprout through the grass at the base of the trees. They put James in mind of Lily again.

"So what'd you two talk about while I was down on the cliff?" James asked as they milled around the saplings. Most were straight, a few crooked; one or two sported ungainly burls.

"I asked her if she likes blokes with antlers for hair," Sirius replied.

"Very funny, git."

"You know, the usual stuff—summer holidays, what we'd been up to all morning, your chances of falling into the lake… Oh, and she asked me how I liked living at your house," he added more softly.

"What'd you tell her?"

"I told her your parents were winged cherubs compared to mine," snorted Sirius.

"And she said—?"

"She wondered how winged cherubs ever produced a child like you."

_Oi!_ "I guess that's the last time I leave you alone with—"

A footfall interrupted their conversation. "Get a move on, you two," said Remus, smirking at what he'd just overheard and already carrying a sapling in his hand. Peter materialized behind him.

"Oh, right."

James eyed up a few more trees then severed one off at the base.

The foursome was tromping out through the patch of vetch, saplings in hand or at wand point, with James and Remus out in front, when something nudged James in the back of the head.

Over his shoulder, he glimpsed a grey pole trailing him and Peter's wand aimed up at it. "Merlin, Pete, either float it straight or carry it."

Peter reddened.

"Pete, get a grip, mate. I was just taking the mickey."

A second after James faced forward again, something began thumping him repeatedly in the back of his trousers. James spun in time to spy Sirius grinning knavishly.

"Don't make me clobber you, Padfoot."

"Ha, like you could."

"Right. We could settle this with a pole fight."

"So much for the International Ban on Duelling," Sirius laughed, but his eyes were flinty with excitement. Peter and Remus stepped aside as they squared up on the grass.

In tandem, they flicked their wands and the two saplings zoomed forward to meet each other. "TOCK." The trees struck…

"TOCK." They struck again on opposite ends…

Quickly, a rhythmic "TOCK—TOCK—TOCK" broke out in the meadow. The two poplars crossed and struck, crossed and struck, zooming forwards, backwards, and readvancing… They'd quickly mastered the rhythm and began picking up speed. A smirk played on both their faces…

Until Hagrid's screen door slammed shut and James made the mistake of glancing over at the cabin where the girls were filing down the stairs…

That's precisely when Sirius's tree came zooming for his chest— he ducked hard and dodged it like a rogue Bludger. It narrowly breezed past his hair. Sirius laughed.

"Maybe you _should _have been in Slytherin." James knew only he could get away with such a jab.

"Maybe _you_ should keep your eyes on your opponent," Sirius retorted, prodding his tree toward James's feet: James jumped over it—and scampered backward.

Then he gave his wand a determined flick: His tree zoomed forward, kicking Sirius's back by several solid feet—

"Whoa!"

Sirius arched backwards and scampered out of range, but James flicked his wand again, and Sirius was forced to duck as the tree zoomed overhead. James chuckled. Then he prodded the tree into a whirl, which prevented Sirius from straightening back up, making it hard for him to see… hard for him to aim… hard for him to stand up from his crouch… Sirius was trying to back out from underneath its spin when the sound of 'OI!' punctuated the air.

Lily's voice.

James let up.

"Looks like we're being summoned," said Sirius with a doggy grin as he straightened up.

James caught the undertone. "Good thing for you."

"I wasn't done yet."

"You'd have slipped on the grass any second with that jig I had you dancing."

"Prongs…" Sirius shook his head admonishingly. "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"I might have to agree with James on this one," said Remus as he and Peter fell into step ahead of them as they finished walking to the stairs where the girls were waiting, laden with blankets.

"Slight detour?" Lily raised one brow into a sharp crook. _Merlin, did she practice that look? _

"We were just waiting for you lot to come out," bluffed Sirius.

"Why do I get the feeling you've been kissing the Blarney Stone again, Black?"

"Well, until I find something better to kiss—"

"Let's get started on the cage," Remus interceded humorously.

"Good idea," echoed Florence drolly, falling into step with him, and leading the group around the corner. Remus stopped at the spot they'd earlier discussed constructing the cage.

"Right about here?"

"Looks good to me."

Remus pointed his wand at the ground. Bits of earth whirled up like a rooster tail, landing in a small circular heap around the newly-bored holes. After he was done, the boys set their saplings in place at the bottom of each well and flicked the dirt back in around them, giving each a good packing by foot.

"Blanket?"

The girls stretched the afghan into place around the poles.

"Flop the second one over the top and the bottom," Sirius directed casually, as the industrious Twister game continued.

Finally, they all stepped back to admire the shanty they'd constructed. The lurid blankets sagged on the poles.

"Who's Transfiguring?" asked Remus.

"James?" queried Bonnie.

"Sure, if no one else wants to."

James stepped forward, his chucks pressing a pattern into the newly tamped soil. Absently running a hand through his hair, he pictured in his mind the sort of cage he wanted, complete with a front door, hinges, and finer mesh on the bottom. Then he gave his wand a flick: Like a hedgehog into a teapot, the crochet work turned to wire mesh, the yarn quivering slightly before fluxing to a rigid gunmetal grey.

"Nice."

"Should we bring the chicks out?" Sirius asked.

"I'll go get them," offered Bonnie.

"I'll help," chimed Florence.

"I'll come too," added Peter.

James avoided glancing at Sirius to question Peter's motivations. "Where's Hagrid?" James wondered aloud. "Wasn't he watching the chicks?"

"He made a trip back to the paddock to tell Kettleburn he'd finish doing whatever he was doing later," explained Lily. "He put a dishtowel over the bucket… Should the rest of us find some straw or something for the cage?"

"Good idea, Evans."

Sirius turned on his heel, glanced around the yard contemplatively, and began vacuuming up woodchips and bits of straw with his wand. Moony, James, and Lily fanned out and followed suit. James noticed that, by coincidence, Lily worked adjacent to him: He caught a glimpse of her wielding her spirally wand before asking, "Your sister's older than you, right?"

"Petunia? Yes."

He had intentions of asking more on the subject when the wind kicked up suddenly, billowing dry leaves and blowing a robust, earthy stench in their direction.

"What's that smell?" Lily asked, wrinkling her nose.

James caught a waft. "Manure pile," he answered simply.

Lily cast him an inquisitive glance.

James paused. "Behind the greenhouses. Sirius and I had to shovel it once." Sirius, within earshot, snuffled a laugh.

"Oh? For what angelic deed was that?"

James resisted the urge to make a witty reply. "Aubrey," he answered simply.

"Oh, _right…_ _Bertram Aubrey. _You mean that time you expanded his head to three times its normal size?"

James's stomach gave a little twist as he looked up to check her expression. Strangely enough, she wore a faintly bemused smirk as she continued vacuuming straw.

"Aubrey's head practically _is_ that size. You don't know the story," he mumbled feebly. He realized his excuses carried little weight when it was the size of his own head that Lily had misgivings about; she'd hardly take his word on someone else's.

"Yes, I _do_ know the story; Remus told it to me once on rounds."

James's head whipped up to regard Moony, who sheepishly flashed James a look that promised, 'I'll explain later.' "You run out of things to talk about for two hours at a time," he mumbled.

_They'd run out of things to talk about? And talked about __him__? _

"Don't worry, he put in a good word for you," Lily remarked casually.

James had completely lost track of the task. The idea of Lily talking about him in her free time aroused hopeful suspicions.

"So he told you about Aubrey strutting into Runes that day—" Sirius interjected "—spouting elaborate facts about subjects he knows nothing about?"

"Remus said he was talking about Animagi—" Lily hedged recollectively. "And really, who knows anything about them? It's not like we learned much in class… Besides, isn't his uncle one?" Her brows knit.

"Right." Sirius nodded. It would have been hard to miss his undertone of disdain.

"Aubrey thinks it's bound to be a family trait," said James sarcastically. _Did Lily also know they'd been riled by Aubrey's know-it-all pomp in front of the pretty Ravenclaw Remus had been trying to ask out that day—at their steadfast encouragement—and just in time for Hogsmeade weekend?_

"If Aubrey were an Animagus, he'd be a quail," said Sirius.

"With a very large plume," added James.

Remus looked torn between amusement and desperately wanting to censure his friends.

Lily glanced between them all, shifted her lips, and then let it slide.

"Does this look like suitable enough vegetation, James?" asked Sirius, outwardly changing the subject once his wand had raked up a significant pile.

"Ruminable," James answered.

Remus accidentally coughed.

Lily glanced between them all suspiciously.

James felt a pang of guilt for leaving her out of the joke—but then the screen door slammed and the trio of Bonnie, Florence, and Peter suddenly rounded the corner.

"What took you so long?" asked Sirius.

"They'd escaped the bucket and decided to hide under Hagrid's bed," Peter explained, slightly out of breath.

"Mn, they're good at hiding," attested James with a nod. Memories of the cliff swirled back.

"Well, should we introduce them to their new home?" asked Remus.

James reached forward and opened the latch of the door ceremoniously and Sirius quickly floated in a few bundles of the bedding they'd collected. "It'll be the true test of our cage—whether or not Loki stages a jailbreak."

"Do the others have names?" asked Lily.

"No, but we should give them some, shouldn't we?" Bonnie carefully transferred Loki and the second chick through the door in cupped hands.

"Rapscallion?" muttered Peter, pointing through the mesh at the second, and apparently voicing a grievance from the recent search.

"Do we have to give them all _mischievous _names?" Lily wailed.

"Oi, this from the girl who named her cat Hooligan!" Bonnie accused, smiling.

"Yeah, why did you name your cat that, Evans?" James wondered.

Lily took a breath. "Well… when I first brought him home from Diagon Alley, he liked to bat around Petunia's things… including—" she paused, "—her knickers." Her friends burst into laughter. "Needless to say, my sister didn't like that very much. I'm not even sure where he got them. He must have raided her hamper or something—Petunia's _very_ neat—she doesn't just leave her dirty clothes lying around."

"You'd think your cat would like us then," remarked Sirius, "if he's such a troublemaker."

"Well, if you weren't always trying to do sneaky things to him—"

The words 'Sticking Charm' went unspoken.

"We only started doing that because he acts so aloof," said James. _…Just_ _like __you__ sometimes, Evans… the way he wends around the common room couches with his fuzzy black tail stuck in the air, always dodging out of reach when I try to get his attention._

"He's not aloof around _me_," said Bonnie.

"Clearly, we lack your touch with animals," said Sirius.

"We _are_ animals."

"You can say that again."

"Aren't we supposed to be coming up with names?"

"Well, Loki comes from myth," James recovered. "So how about Malta? There's a deep history of falconry there."

"Is Merlin too obvious?" asked Lily, glancing toward James. "You said earlier—"

"It works," he said encouragingly, meeting her eye.

"Settled, then," said Sirius.

"Here comes Hagrid." Remus hitched a thumb toward the stables, where Hagrid could be seen carrying a spaded shovel. He bore something in his right hand which James couldn't make out…

Within moments, Hagrid tromped into the circle, wielding a vegetable stalk with a feathery top. "Fennel," he said. "Wards off danger."

"You sound like my dad," Florence grimaced as the Gryffindors parted to let Hagrid through.

"Well done on the cage," Hagrid pronounced, opening the latch to slip the stalk in.

"Is the spade for the funeral?" Lily asked.

"It is," Hagrid nodded sadly. "Ready ter get started?"

The question met a round of sober nods.

James fetched the crate from the top of the woodpile while the others fell into step behind the gamekeeper. As he caught up to the group, Lily twisted around with a quizzical look and quietly asked, "Why wouldn't we just use that spell Remus used to bury the poles?"

"Even wizards dig graves by hand," he answered, so that few people overhead. "It's fitting for the nature of the task—a show of respect."

"That makes sense… though I wouldn't have guessed wizards would forego magic out of respect." She'd fallen half a step behind her friends to converse with him.

"There's humility in manual labour… I'm supposed to have learned that from detention as much as anything else."

"But you haven't?" Lily arched a brow right along with her voice.

"Um…" He glanced sidelong at her… _Should I tell her?_ "It's not that I haven't learned _anything_ from detention, it's just that most of the time I simply pull one of my mate's wands out from where I've stashed it in my sock after my own has been taken away…"

Lily's jaw dropped.

The procession halted when Hagrid arrived at a suitable spot, about fifty feet behind his cabin, sunny, and bordering on the woods. The group convened in a half circle around it. James noticed he was separated from his mates by Florence on his left, and Lily remained on his right.

In one fell swing of the spade, Hagrid bored a sufficiently large hole for the crate.

"So much for earning our humility," Lily whispered conspiratorially.

"Right. That takes care of that," James whispered back.

"We are gathered here today…" Hagrid began, "…to set this brave bird to rest." Then he paused, took out his hanky and honked into it like a tortured goose.

Everyone waited respectfully. James decided to smooth over the delay by stepping forward to set the weathered Zanzibar's crate in the hole, but Lily caught his arm as he stepped out of line.

"Wait, that fabric is only temporary, remember?"

James glanced down at the sky blue bunting and remembered Lily's conjuring it. He doubted they'd find anything nicer at this point—and he was rather fond of it.

"I think it'll be alright."

Stepping forward, he crouched down, set the crate in the hole, then stepped back and reclaimed his place between Lily and Florence.

"Ashes to ashes and dust to dust," said Hagrid, and after a respectful pause, he gently backfilled the hole.

Another moment of silence prevailed. Only the leaves shirred in the breeze.

"Should we plant something on top?" asked Bonnie finally.

"That'd be a nice touch," agreed Lily. She glanced around before settling her gaze on a patch of frazzled brown flower stalks nearby, flattened by the winter snow. "I have an idea—" She whisked over to them, plucked a few seed heads, brought them back and, after handing Bonnie half the harvest, rubbed them gently between her hands. The seeds drifted through the air and scattered atop the soil.

It reminded James of something she would have done over her Potions cauldron, something which would have rendered it the best specimen in class and set Slughorn cooing… Her own brand of magic. Meanwhile, Florence tamped the seeds into the soil with her foot.

"What about a headstone?" suggested Remus.

The boys traded glances.

"Would this work?" asked Peter, taking a few steps towards the woods and unearthing a smooth oblong rock from a concavity in the soil.

"Perfect. Now we need some sort of inscription," said Sirius, while Peter brushed off the dirt.

"Any ideas?"

"How about… 'Tis better to fly and die than to never have flown at all'?" ventured James.

"It's fitting," pronounced Remus.

"I like it," seconded Sirius.

By the time the boys had managed to inscribe it and set it in place, the girls were huddled together, hugging and rubbing their goosebumped arms. The sun had dipped below the trees during the ceremony and cool spring air had infiltrated the meadow. Lily was still wearing just a white short-sleeved blouse.

"It looks like a proper grave," pronounced Florence.

"Well done," added Hagrid, casting a glance around. "Would yeh like to come in fer sum tea?" A welcoming smile lit his tear-stained face.

"Sure." With collective agreement, they followed Hagrid toward the back door of the cabin.

James fell in alongside Sirius. "I'm starving, you?" he asked in an undertone, rubbing his stomach as though it ached.

"Yeah, seems like yesterday we tickled the pear."

"Should we go check on the chicks before we go in?" Peter twisted around to ask timidly.

"Sounds like a good idea."

"Hagrid, we'll meet you inside, all right?" called Lily, continuing on past the steps which Hagrid had already ascended; he paused halfway through the screen door.

"I'll put the kettle on," he replied.

They arrived to find the downy trio nested together in a little pile in the corner.

"They're so cute," said Bonnie.

"How is it they're perfect little angels when I'm not holding them?" asked Remus.

"Don't worry, they didn't seem to like James either," Sirius consoled.

"We forgot to ask Hagrid what they eat," James remarked, ignoring him.

"Small rodents?" Sirius suggested.

James broke into a grin. Meanwhile, Peter turned ashen.

"Same as owls, Pete," James mollified, nudging his arm. "Though I reckon they'd settle for a few Flobberworms."

"Is there anything that won't eat Flobberworms?" asked Remus rhetorically.

"I wouldn't," said Bonnie, making a face.

The screen door slammed shut and Hagrid rounded the corner wearing an apron, a blanket draped over one arm. "Jus' put some cakes in the oven. I brought another blanket ter drape o'er the cage so they don't get cold on their firs' night."

"Maybe we should use a Warming Charm too?" suggested Florence.

"Have at it," said Sirius. Florence stepped forward and set to work.

"We should just come back later tonight and get them," James murmured to Sirius, who replied with a nod as the girls helped Hagrid set the blanket in place. "It's plenty warm in the dormitories."

"Though I doubt Hagrid will actually leave them out all night."

"True."

"And Moony'd never forgive us."

"Come on inside, all of yous," Hagrid ushered them toward the front door and the group rallied obediently.

"Are you really thinking about taking one home?" Lily asked Bonnie, walking beside her, but she also cast a glance over her shoulder at the boys as she spoke.

"_We_ were," replied James, "and you definitely should, McDermott."

"Right, but we get Loki."

"Good call, Sirius."

"I don't think he belongs anywhere _but _with the two of you," Lily replied, sharing a look with Bonnie.

The rest of the discussion took them all the way to the stairs of Hagrid's hut and on inside…


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Fireside Friendships**

As the door of Hagrid's hut swung closed behind them, the smell of wood smoke greeted their nostrils. In the hearth, a fire crackled merrily, licking the bottom of a cast iron kettle hanging on the rod over its flames. All manner of traps, baskets, saws, snowshoes, ropes, and hooks dangled from the rafters.

As they pressed into the room, the girls quickly assembled in front of the fire, rubbing their arms to warm up. Goosebumps dotted Lily's pale skin, James noticed, before catching a convenient view of the back of her legs. How long ago, it now seemed, since they'd been swimming in the lake.

"Yer welcome ter borrow my moleskin coat," said Hagrid, gesturing to a hairy hunk of fabric hanging on a wooden peg by the door that bore a strange resemblance to a skinned bear.

Sirius flicked his wand and floated the coat over to them. It zoomed across the cabin, slowing as it reached their backs, wrapped around their shoulders, and easily accommodated all three of them at once. They caught sight of it as it enveloped them.

"Thank you, Black," Lily said with pleasant surprise and the others chimed in similarly.

"Don't mention it." Sirius flashed the smallest of smiles.

Collectively, the boys crowded in behind them, trying to soak in some of the wonderful heat from the flames while the girls threaded their hair out from under the hefty collar. Lily's hair formed a glorious fan of red on black that caught James's eye. How many times had he sat behind her in class, her school robes in lieu of the moleskin, willing his attention back to the board?

He and Sirius squeezed towards an open spot on the girls' left. Remus picked up an old pine lute leaning against the fireside armchair and turned it about in his hands for a quick assessment. "Do you play, Hagrid?" he asked, before taking a seat with it.

"I'm learnin' ter."

"Mind if I give it a try?"

"Be my guest," said Hagrid, checking the oven, which was built into the side of the brick chimney.

Peter claimed a seat on the bench at the table and leaned back on his elbows to gaze at the fire.

James flashed him a small smile. _Did everyone feel so drawn to fire?_ he wondered, as they let its warmth seep into their bare skin. _Or were Gryffindors more attracted to it than most?_ He could never picture the Ravenclaws huddling around the fire in _their_ common room with the same zeal and communality as they always did in the West Tower. He'd even asked Hazel Blott that question once; she'd looked at him like he was daft.

At his feet, the flames twisted and curled like a snake to a charmer's flute, occasionally launching an errant spark onto the already singed and threadbare rug.

"You look a bit like three evil sorceresses huddled under that coat," remarked James as Remus began plucking a few strings to tune.

"Ha, imagine the things we could Transfigure you into," replied Bonnie in a clear reference to the famous witch, Circe, a part which James thought Lily, with her streaming red hair, could play especially well.

"Evans already threatened to turn me into a Billywig earlier," he quipped.

"Fortunately, I didn't have to go that _far_," Lily cheeked with a glint in her eye.

Remus started into a few chords of what sounded like _The Girl from Impanema_, drawing everyone's attention.

"Sorry—I'm rusty," he winced after hitting a wrong note. James spotted the usual blush at the tips of his ears; it naturally occurred whenever Moony found himself at the centre of attention.

"Sounds really good," said Hagrid. "Maybe you could give me sum lessons?"

"Sure. Anytime," Remus replied, without lifting his eyes from the strings. "If you don't mind _very_ inexpert ones."

_Typical Moony._ "His mother's a music teacher," James pointed out.

"Why haven't we ever heard you play before?" Florence asked quizzically. Bonnie, too, leaned out past her friends to listen.

"Because Remus hides his talents,"answered James. Remus glanced up and flashed him a small, grateful smile, though a slightly abashed one, nonetheless.

"Well, _I_'m not surprised," said Lily. "I heard him play in the music room once."

"When was that?" Peter asked, scrunching up his brows.

"On rounds."

"That a boy, Remus. Nose to the grindstone," said Sirius. Remus immediately blushed.

"Puh-leez," said Lily. "I shudder to imagine what you and Potter would accomplish on rounds."

Sirius's face slid into a grin. "Oh, we'd accomplish something. I'm just not sure it would fall under 'rule enforcement'."

Lily smiled in spite of herself, as did everyone else, but the exchange was soon punctuated by the sound of water hissing on the flames.

"Water's ready," Lily called over to Hagrid as she slipped from beneath the coat and pulled out her wand to take the kettle off. Her lavender shorts, white shirt, and pale skin contrasted with the flames, but her hair met its equal.

Hagrid peered over from the kitchen. "I'll take the cakes out, too, then. Should be plenty warm by now."

Lily expertly floated the steaming kettle across the room, setting it down as though cushioned against the trivet she slid underneath. Hagrid doled out a tin of tea and a tea ball and Lily set it steeping. Setting aside the coat, her friends wandered over to help. Meanwhile, Hagrid plated the cakes.

James and Sirius exchanged a bloke-ish glance of 'Should we pitch in?' and Remus looked up from the lute to ask the same.

Then James spied the earthenware mugs stacked on the open shelves above the sink. "Suppose we could set the table," he suggested. "Moony, don't budge," he added, seeing as the kitchen only provided enough space for one giant—or three normal wizards—in which to pivot and Remus's music enlivened the hut as much as the fire.

James floated the mugs down in a vee formation like flying geese, prompting them to split when they reached the table's edge and then circle to their proper places. Sirius brought the sugar, creamer and spoons along in a corkscrew, setting them down in the centre amongst the drips of candle wax.

Finally, the girls coronated the tea kettle with its own little cosy, Hagrid set down a tray of tea cakes, and everyone claimed a seat around the scrubbed oak table. James was pleased to find himself sharing a bench with Sirius and adjacent to Lily, who claimed a spot on the next one over.

Hagrid sat down with a creak which made James wonder if the poor bench underneath him would hold, then began doling out the tea cakes, each one falling onto the plate with a curious 'clink' as though it were a mineral straight from _Prospero's_ in Hogsmeade. Lily directed the tea pot to pour.

"Hagrid, can you tell us more about the falcons?" she asked.

"What d'you want ter know?"

"Well, for starters, how do we tell the males apart from the females?"

James took a sip of tea, which tasted of fresh mint, and wondered if Hagrid had picked it himself. It grew on the banks of the stream in the Forest. Prongs always crushed it with his hooves while cantering past.

"You'll have ter wait 'n' see," answered Hagrid. "The females'll be bigger o'er time. Otherwise they're identical. S'not like peacocks where the males get showy."

Sirius knocked James's knee under the table. James knocked it back harder and threw him a dirty look. Sirius did his best to stifle his grin, but not the amusement in his eyes.

"Have a feelin' you got two females an' one male, judgin' by the size o' their legs. That's the only way'er tellin' right now." Hagrid dunked his cake into his tea to punctuate the remark.

Before James had managed his first bite, he saw Bonnie teething hers as though it were a gold nugget. Across the table, Remus was trying to break his in half: His expression became strained and then puzzled. He set it back down and reached for his tea instead.

"One of them is a little devil compared to the others," said Florence. "He was pecking everyone—at least, we assumed it was a 'he'." She glanced up at Hagrid for confirmation.

"It probably hatched firs' too, then." Hagrid chuckled. "Pipped its way right out of the shell as soon as it could. They have an egg tooth on their bill, see, like a pick. Must ter fallen off already, I looked fer 'em."

James picked up his cake and tapped it against his plate investigatively. The suits of armour on the third floor clanked less.

"So, er, what do they eat?" asked Bonnie. "Can we feed them the same as our owls?"

"That's a good start," replied Hagrid. "You won't have ter regurgitate anythin'. They'll eat 'em whole." He seemed to miss the revolted looks everyone exchanged.

"They'll also eat snakes 'n' insects in a pinch." Sirius and James's eyes glittered. "Once they're older, they'll mos'ly eat other birds, like pigeons." Peter darted a watery glance of relief at James.

"They eat their own species?" Florence's nose wrinkled. "I'm not sure I like them as much anymore."

"S'different with animals," Hagrid protested. "Wouldn't be any fish in the lake if they didn't eat other fish, now would there? S'not the same as this killin' business with You Know Who.

A pause elapsed around the table.

"How long will they live?" asked James, breaking the silence.

"I s'pose ye could expect at leas' fifteen years. Up ter twenty-five if ye take good care of 'em."

"We will," Sirius replied matter-of-factly along with a nod, then his brow wrinkled. "Shouldn't we feed them soon? It's been a couple hours since we found 'em, at least."

Hagrid nodded. "There's some sausages in the ice box we can give 'em after tea."

"Maybe we can send our owls out to hunt for them as soon as we get back?" suggested James.

He watched Lily take a sip of tea, testing its temperature with her lips.

"S'a good idea," agreed Hagrid. "Yer owls will be grumpy about it, o' course," he chuckled, "huntin' fer another bird."

"So how do we know they'll come back to us? The falcons—once we let them fly free?"

"I suppose you'll have ter see fer yerself, but if yer takin' good care of 'em, they'll mos' likely start ter bond with you. That's how it usually works in falconry."

Sirius and James exchanged avid looks that said, '_Summer hols just got even better.'_

Hagrid surveyed the plates with confusion. "You all aren't eatin' yer cakes. Aren't ye hungry?" He gestured a bratworst-sized finger at James's. "Long day ye mus' ter had out there."

Before anyone had time to fabricate an excuse, a spark jumped out of the fireplace, pulling Hagrid's attention over to the hearth.

"Fire's getting' a lil' low. Think I'll go get sum more wood," he said, lumbering up out of his seat and heading toward the door. The Gryffindors followed his progress...

"I'd offer to help," Lily murmured to James as soon as Hagrid was out of earshot, "but the shovelling convinced me otherwise."

"Good thinking."

Remus leaned across the table as soon as the screen door slammed shut. "The tea cakes are like rocks. Have you tried them?"

"Yeah, you could clobber someone with these," said Sirius, picking his up off his plate and turning it over in puzzlement.

Florence giggled.

"Yes, but how are we going to get away with not eating them without hurting Hagrid's feelings?" Lily asked, eyes softening.

"Better Hagrid's feelings than our stomachs," said Bonnie demonstratively.

Lily smirked at her friend.

James glanced over his shoulder toward the door. "Well, they're easy enough to get rid of before he comes back."

"But surely he'll suspect?"

"We could always Vanish them bite by bite when he's not looking," suggested Florence. "That way it'll at least seem like we're eating them."

"That won't work." Sirius shook his head. "Seven people wielding wands over tea, I ask, and you think Hagrid won't notice?"

"Well, what's _your _idea?" Florence challenged.

"I'm with James."

Lily rolled her eyes.

Hagrid's footsteps thudded on the stairs…

Everyone scrambled for a wand but only a few had theirs successfully in hand by the time the door cracked ajar and Hagrid nudged through with an armload of wood that nearly hid his face.

Sirius cast a round of _Evanescos_; Bonnie stuffed hers into her lap; and James, whose wand was caught up in his back pocket, snatched a handful of cakes from his and Lily's plates at the last second and_—ping!—_slung them into the fire with a Chaser's accuracy, his wrist unfurling with its usual reliability.

The flames sizzled and flared teal green as Hagrid approached with the load of wood and James's shoulders tensed as he waited to see if his ruse would be discovered. _Or would Hagrid notice the guilt written on all seven of their faces when he turned around?_ He trusted his mates to deadpan well enough, but what about the girls? He'd wager Bonnie couldn't pull a poker face if her life depended on it…

Hagrid's forehead wrinkled as he examined the peculiar colour of the flames. "Hmmph. Wood mus' be greener than I thought." He tossed a few more logs on top.

James swapped a glance with Sirius. Lily's lips twitched before she hid her expression in a sip of tea. Bonnie smothered a smile by resting her chin in her palm. Florence tucked one foot up onto the bench and coolly focused on tying her shoe.

Hagrid brushed the woodchips off his boilersuit and ambled back to the table. He glanced around at the table setting as he reclaimed his seat and his woolly brows perked. "Yous liked yer cakes, I see. Would anyone like s'more?"

A strafing round of 'no's' made Hagrid start.

"They were really filling," bluffed Lily, patting her stomach for effect, "and we're saving our appetites for dinner soon."

"Well al'righ'…" Hagrid took a sip of tea and a bite of cake, which deposited crumbles in his intricate beard.

James took the opportunity to lean over and whisper in Lily's ear. "Who's been kissing the Blarney Stone now, Evans?" Her hair pleasantly tickled the side of his face and even though she cobbed an elbow in reply, he caught her smirk as he straightened back up.

"I checked on th' birds while I was out. Snug as bugs from the looks of it… Guess I'll cut up that sausage soon as I finish me tea," he said, taking up his mug. "Yous are welcome to warm up by the fire if you'd like."

"Can we help with the washing up?" Florence asked.

"Sure," replied Hagrid. "Don' think there's room fer the lot o' you, though."

"We can take turns," Lily said.

"I'll help," Peter squeaked.

"Count me in," chimed Sirius.

"That makes three of us," said Florence.

Fortunately, Hagrid didn't seem to notice the mysterious absence of crumbs on the plates when everyone floated theirs to the kitchen, even though they traded guilty looks amongst themselves. Once the table had been fully cleared and a storm of bubbles brewed up in the basin by Sirius, the rest of the gang retired to the fireside.

Lily and Bonnie reclaimed the moleskin coat while Remus and James perused the books atop the mantel and Hagrid loaded another log onto the fire. James had just cracked an encyclopaedia of magical creatures open to a page on 'Smargamuffs' and he and Remus were debating the meaning of 'endentular' when Hagrid decided to take Remus up on his offer of a lute lesson.

A moment later when Bonnie excused herself to the loo, James found himself suddenly alone in front of the fire with Lily. A strange self-awareness crept up his spine as his eyes drifted up from the book still in his hands and ran smack into Lily's. If only for a split second, she'd been watching him.

"So the trick is to try to get your finger on only one string at a time," James heard Remus say over his shoulder.

Lily's gaze faltered for a moment as she glanced away, then back again. "I forgot to ask Hagrid if the chicks will be full-grown by the end of summer," she commented casually, wrapping the oversized coat more tightly around her, nudging up the ends of her hair in the process.

"They should be," he answered matter-of-factly, registering the steadiness of his own voice. "It only takes a matter of weeks. I remember reading it somewhere." Her gaze lingered until he glanced down at the book still in his hands, gently closed it, and slipped it back into its slot on the mantle, between two volumes that had collapsed into an a-frame in its absence.

"And then you'll bring them back to school with you next autumn?" Her tone was inviting and when he searched her face for the smirk that said 'we'll see what McGonagall has to say about that', he couldn't find a trace.

"That's the plan." He nodded sincerely.

Lily's face budded into a teasing smile… "I suppose this is the one time I hope you get away with it, Potter," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

_Oh, really?_ James lowered his voice and cocked a brow. "You seemed to hope I'd get away with things a minute ago." He swept a pointed glance into the fire, where the remains of the tea cakes fuelled the flames.

Lily's mouth opened to respond, but as though acknowledging _touché_ as the only possible reply, she closed it again. She hadn't lost the twinkle in her eye, however. On the contrary, it spread across her face in the form of a delayed smile.

James directed his own smile into the fire as he picked up the poker to sift the coals. In the kitchen, Florence squealed and he looked up in time to see her dodging under a mug whizzing over her head.

"So what are you planning to do with the poor captives this summer?" Lily resumed.

He shrugged in response. "Fly... Feed them... I'm not sure they need much else." He glanced up and caught her eye, struck by its intense greenness. She didn't look away this time. He set the poker back on its hook and pondered Hagrid's wireless on the mantel for a moment before venturing on.

"I suppose we could always send you—" he stopped himself from using the word 'owl' "—a _falcon _part way through the summer—if you wanted to see how much they'd grown. But then, you could always just get a letter from Bonnie…" he trailed off. He didn't dare assume she'd actually want to receive post from _him_—and he wasn't about to go out on a limb and suggest it either.

"No matter who sent it, my sister would _freak_."

"She could hardly blame you for receiving post." A flicker of good old Gryffindor indignation rose up in his chest on her behalf and he flashed a frown.

"Oh, Petunia finds a way to blame me for everything," she grumbled and followed it with a sigh, "but I'd enjoy seeing Loki, once he's actually got feathers enough to fly." Her wording said nothing about hearing from him; nonetheless, the fact that she hadn't flatly refused the offer broke new ground between them and gave his stomach at least one butterfly.

He scuffed a burn mark on the rug with the toe of his Chucks while he turned it all over in his head. The Gryffindor common room rug was full of such singe marks—evidence of sparks flying too far and wide. They gave the old rug its character. Even the house-elves didn't try to repair them.

"Dare I ask what you and Sirius are up to this summer?"

He quirked a brow, not unlike one of her earlier ones outside, for effect. "I don't know, dare you?"

Lily gently rolled her eyes.

He smiled in reply. "We're not as corrupt as you think we are, Evans. Most days we eat breakfast and dinner with my parents. Pretty unexciting stuff. And we fly a lot."

A charred log collapsed with a thud, creating a swarm of sparks reminiscent of fireflies.

"Yes, Sirius already tried convincing me your family tree is made up entirely of cherubs."

James didn't need to look up to see the glint in her eye. He already knew it was there based on her tone.

"And he _also _mentioned you didn't believe him." He glanced up to gauge her reaction.

She shrugged blithely under the coat. "We _have_ been housemates for six years, if you'll remember."

"I do."

"So you'll excuse me if I find your cherubic nature a little hard to believe."

James chuckled. "Well, we do sneak into London every once in a while."

"Oh? What does that entail?" Her green eyes widened.

_Should I admit the things we get up to?_

'_If she doesn't like you for who you are it's no use, mate,' _a voice much like Sirius's chimed in.

James met her eye. "Record shops, discos, the Underground… and the occasional pub—just to see if we can get in."

"And_ do _you?"

"Only the dodgiest ones." He flashed a grin.

Half a laugh escaped her and he enjoyed it immensely—so much so that he let it knock around in his chest for a moment.

James sobered his tone. "It'll probably be harder to do that this summer though, with the growing danger." For a second they held each other's eye as if to say they both well knew what dangers he'd just alluded to even if the levity of their conversation didn't invite delving into it. Despite the hefty coat, James saw Lily's shoulders rise a defiant inch.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Summer."

"Oh. I have a part-time job at the bakery in town. Other than that, I'll try to visit my friends. It'll be easier now that we can Apparate." She shot a glance in Remus and Hagrid's direction to check on their progress.

"Yeah, that'll be ace." James ran a hand absently through his hair. _A bakery?_ _Why couldn't we have had a simple conversation like this before? I'd have really liked to…_

"It'll make it easier to get away from my sister, too," she added and he caught the weariness in her tone.

Behind them, Hagrid struck a dissonant chord and Remus offered gentle encouragement.

James's face knit into a quizzical expression. "Is your sister—_jealous_ of you?" He wasn't sure why this hadn't occurred to him before, but it suddenly struck him as the perfect explanation for her behaviour on the platform.

Lily's brows plunged and she suddenly looked a little sad. "Yes, I think so."

James was about to ask where her sister went to school when Bonnie returned and, for some reason that only his instincts could grasp, he decided to change tack.

"Well, you shouldn't let it bother you. It's not _your _fault," he finished summarily.

"What's not her fault?" Bonnie asked innocently.

"Petunia," Lily answered. "And the fact that she hates me."

"Well, Petunia's a prat," Bonnie scoffed as though she'd had altogether too much practice at saying this.

"Try telling that to my parents. The last time she stuck my wand in a manky pot soaking on the stove, my mum maintained she must have mistaken it for a wooden spoon." Her eyes flitted across James and Bonnie's, a flash of indignance flared in them, and her shoulders tensed under the coat again. "It took me over an hour to oil it back to normal."

"Yes, I remember that story," Bonnie groaned, surveying her friend's long face. "Well, cheer up, you can always come visit me if it gets bad."

"That's a nice thought." Lily flashed a grateful smile and extended one wing of the coat for her friend to duck under.

James stood idle throughout the exchange. Summer would be dull as dishwater if reduced to living without magic for its duration. Fortunately, his parents had never been the most stringent enforcers of the Restriction of Underage Sorcery, so he could hardly imagine being lorded over by a sibling, especially a prune like Lily's sister. Nor did he know how to be of help…

Inviting Lily to take refuge at _his_ house for an afternoon seemed out of the question, though he'd have gladly extended it—and his parents had always been gracious hosts to anyone he brought home.

Still, _this _would be different. _Much _different. He'd certainly never invited a witch home before—and the idea of Lily visiting his house struck up old nerves and gave him the sort of frissons he'd felt earlier when she'd healed his hand.

"You could always visit Remus," he suggested spontaneously in an attempt to be helpful, but a pang of envy shot up in his chest nonetheless. "_He _could use the company. Someone besides us to check on him and make sure he doesn't spend the whole summer with his nose in a book."

Lily bestowed a genuine smile on him. It made his chest go warm and lumpy.

"What are you saying about me, James?" Remus set down the lute and walked up.

"I told Lily she could pay you a visit if she needed to get away from her sister this summer." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Remus blushed slightly at the tips of his ears. "Oh—right. Certainly. Though I'll admit I'm not anywhere near as exciting as James and Sirius."

"Yes, but at least I'd make it back home without getting arrested," Lily quipped laughingly.

"True," Remus conceded with a grin.

Sirius and Florence suddenly reappeared from the kitchen at James's elbow. Peter tucked in next to Lily to complete the group again.

"Our turn for the washing?" James asked, glancing sideways at his mate.

"No, we finished already, you tosser."

"There wasn't much," Florence explained.

"Besides, we're going to miss dinner if we don't get back to the castle soon," said Peter, glancing at his watch.

"But we haven't fed the chicks yet," James reminded.

"Yeah," Bonnie agreed.

"_We _can do it," Sirius offered, referring to the wizards, and with a slight smirk he added, "We have our ways of getting a meal after hours if we need to."

Lily adopted Sirius's smile. "All right…" she agreed, glancing at her friends.

"It probably won't take that long anyway," hedged James.

"Hagrid's cutting up the sausage for them right now," Remus added, thumbing toward the kitchen.

"Almos' done," Hagrid called over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't mind tucking into a warm meal after being outside all day," Florence conceded.

"We think its Beef Wellington tonight."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that, Sirius," Florence quipped.

"Well, get a move on already, then, we'll take care of the rest."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, thanks, Sirius."

A sincere round of glances passed from one group to the other.

After the girls had thanked Hagrid for his hospitality and expertise, the door clacked shut behind them, leaving the boys to wait while Hagrid filled a paper sack with the sausage bits.

"S'a fine thing yous did today," Hagrid said, "rescuin' those chicks."

"Ah, it was nothing," dismissed Sirius, waving a hand.

"Maybe for you," James murmured under his breath. "You just stood around talking to Evans."

"Jealous, Prongs?" he replied in an undertone, eyes glittering devilishly.

"We'll come back to check on them in the morning," promised Remus.

"Yeah, we'll be seeing you, Hagrid," said James. "Thanks for all your help. I'm not sure what we would have done without it."

Hagrid's chest puffed out under his boilersuit and his eyes glittered like warm coals. "I'm sure you lot'd've figured somethin' out…. Well, best be goin' if you don' wanna miss yer dinner." He swept them along with his hand.

The boys murmured another flurry of thanks, took their leave, and had no sooner rounded the corner than they spotted the three girls stooped in front of the cage.

"What're you still doing here?" Sirius asked indignantly.

"They were too cute. We couldn't resist saying goodbye," Bonnie replied.

Sirius rolled his eyes in mockery.

"We just wanna see one of them eat first," Florence cooed, spying the paper sack.

"Even if it means _you_ won't eat?"

"You'd tell us how to get into the kitchens…. wouldn't you?"

"We can't just give away secrets like that. We worked hard to figure that out, y'know."

A closer examination of Sirius's deadpan expression revealed a twinkle in his eye.

"You'd let us _starve_?"

"No… We have some butterbeers upstairs we'd let you have." The ghost of a grin floated across his face.

"And fudge," Remus added helpfully.

"Get Splinched!"

"Just trying to help." Sirius shrugged innocently.

The boys collectively nursed their grins as James unlatched the cage door and reached in to feed the chicks. He held a morsel of food over their pointy, open bills and let it drop into the nearest one. Then he reloaded for another round, working clockwise to keep track.

Everyone watched raptly as the chicks instinctively gaped their bills skyward.

"They are pretty cute little fuzzballs," Sirius conceded, looking on with his hands in his pockets.

The girls watched for a moment longer.

"All right, we're going now…" said Florence finally and together the three of them spun.

"Make sure they don't take your hand off again, Potter," Lily called gently over her shoulder.

He barely glimpsed her expression as a curtain of red hair swung round and eclipsed her face, but the twitching of her lips had been unmistakeable.

"Make sure you don't miss dinner," he sang back.

She shot a last glance over her shoulder at him. In the moment that followed, James found himself staring at her shoulder blades again, but it wasn't the dolefully familiar view it had been this morning when she'd turned her back on him at the lake. This time her hair swished playfully across her shoulders in unison with her stride, stoking a warmth in his chest.

He turned his attention back to feeding the chicks before his mates called him out.

"Looks like we might have to rename one of these buggers," said Sirius, squinting at the size of their legs through the cage. "I think Hagrid's right, there's only one male."

"We're not renaming Loki," countered James.

"Nope, definitely not. He looks like a male anyway. Think we might have to rename Merlin, though. Malta works for a female, but Merlin doesn't."

"Better ask Lily," advised Remus with a slight frown. "I think she chose that one."

James felt a pang of regret, then he wondered if he could find a way to suggest renaming it 'Circe'. It meant _falcon_, after all… and it reminded him of her, huddled under Hagrid's moleskin coat earlier.

"Good thing you didn't admit to the girls how we _really _found our way into the kitchens." Remus grinned.

The boys traded knowing smiles.

James's hand probed the bottom of the paper bag, his fingers rooting into the corners and finding it empty. "Time to make tracks for the castle. They wolfed everything," he said, crumpling it up and stuffing it in his pocket. Sirius latched the door shut and tucked the blanket back over the cage before prodding the hay with one last Warming Charm. Tacitly, through six years of practice, they broke into step in unison, casting one last collective glance back at the chicks.

The sky had waned pewter grey and the sound of their toes sweeping over the grass struck a quiet rhythm amongst them. A glance ahead into the Scottish gloaming revealed the girls only a hundred yards in front of them. Overhead, the first stars of the night began to dot the northern sky. As usual, the brightest made the earliest entries, leaving space for the lesser to fill in as the evening unfolded. James inwardly wondered how there could be such evil in a world with so many hopeful beacons holding out through the darkness.

He spotted the Dogstar and then…

"Cassiopeia's out," he said aloud.

"So's Sadge," said Sirius, referring familiarly to Sagittarius. "Looks like it'd be a nice night to sit up on the tower if we can manage it."

"I think the fourth years have their exam tonight," said Remus.

"Common room it is, then."

They turned their gaze back to the path ahead.

"D'you think they'll make it in time?" Remus wondered aloud, glancing at the girls.

"D'you think _we'll_ make it?" James asked in return. His stomach must have shrunken, he'd eaten so little today. And as handy as knowing their way into the kitchens had become, he'd always rather take a seat in the Great Hall.

"I dunno, but I'm not in the mood to run," Sirius replied lazily, "even though I'm beyond starving."

The four of them had their eyes pinned to the girls' backs, avidly watching what appeared to be some lively exchange about who knew what, when suddenly Florence glanced back over her shoulder. So did Bonnie. Then Lily hissed something to both of them.

"Covert," quipped Sirius, and then… "I think we're being discussed." He glanced pointedly at James.

"Not me," Remus quipped wryly.

_Typical Moony. _James shook his head in dismay, and he might have chided his friend, but his heart was too busy turning cloverleaf patterns in his chest to find the spare words for it.

Peter piped in at James's shoulder. "Looks like it might be time for you to _buck_ _up_ and ask her out again, Prongs."

James scratched his chest to try to make the ridiculously sharp feeling there go away, but, before succeeding, he glanced down to catch Peter's expression. Under the sandy hair, Peter wore a smile that said he'd been enormously proud of his joke. And his eyes shone with a cartload of admiration.

James flashed a smile back at him before his expression turned thoughtful again. He knew his mates were waiting for him to answer, but he wasn't in a rush.

And while the thought of asking Lily out again made his stomach lurch more than a ride down into his Gringott's vault, it wasn't cowardice that crept over him as he found his answer, but something more… He tucked his hands into his pockets and gave it a handful of steps more thought.

"No…" he finally said, "…I think I'm gonna wait."

_~The End~_

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story along the way. I sincerely appreciated your comments. No promises, but I may write an epilogue and/or sequel at some point as my way of saying thanks to those who kindly let me know they enjoyed it. : )


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